If Credence Went to Ilvermorny - Fall From Winter
by TheFlightyFairy
Summary: A sequel to Summer Trials: Credence Barebone is starting his first year at Ilvermorny. During the course of the first few months he makes both friends and enemies, all while trying to hide what he truly is - an Obscurial. This becomes increasingly difficult when he finds himself a lead player in a very cutthroat prank war. AU
1. Chapter 1: Not to Worry

Part 1

Down Among the Oblivious

Chapter 1: Not to Worry

A goodbye. That was all it was. But as time dragged fretfully on, Ravina Hodges' simple statement seemed to be turning into an hour speech of politician-proportions.

"Let the kid breathe," Rocky advised as she pulled him close to her chest for hopefully the last time.

His daughter didn't seem to hear him. She spoke softly, "I know it's hard, starting school here. But you're ready." She relaxed her embrace and pulled away from him just far enough to see the expression on his face. "You know you're ready, Credence."

The deep, cutting eyes stared back at her, fully colored, as most eyes always are but as his sometimes were not. They were covered in more self-doubt and insecurity than was usual even for him. In the past month or so she, her father, and this boy had worked morning, noon, and night to get him to the point where it would even be possible for him to attend Ilvermorny. Coming to the point now though, all three of them were realizing that not as much thought had been given to what would happen once he was allowed in the school.

The month of September was a sneakster. It did enjoy watching them obsessively tick down the days, think no venture could be better prepared for, and then throw out a carefully plotted reminder out just seconds before its arrival. But it had come now. The flying carriages, pulled by nothing, had almost all arrived. A crowd of First Year students was already visible over the balcony, their rather damp, blue and cranberry robes tinted a slight yellow by the massive chandelier just above where the threesome stood. On the other side of the room and walls, several hundred other voices could be heard from the older students gathered around the mirrored balcony. They were placed above the Sorting Round to watch the First Years. Down below, two men held the doors open, though not so much as to let the torrent of rain flood the entrance: Rafael Valadez, a Mexico-native with a quick smile and wise eyes, and Daniel Dawson, the blonde wannabe lawyer and Auror. The flow of students was growing thin now. Dawson and Valadez were spending most of their energy making sure everyone stayed in line, sometimes sending their wands a-crackling to get the children to listen, like the way a cobra opens its chest to make itself look bigger. Danny's gaze wandered up to where the Hodges and Credence hesitated above, and saw them gazing down. He quickly went back to what he was doing.

Credence watched a couple professors, most notably a pair that he had never seen before and who were about half the height of everyone else, bustling around down there as well. Some were checking their pocket watches, others were watching for stragglers. Rocky took out his own watch, jangling the chain a little louder than was necessary. "Ravina..."

"I know, Daddy." She apprehensively smoothed Credence's light blue school robe taken from the 1914-15 school year Lost and Found. It seemed an ocean on him. Credence might have shown that he had that magical skill of any of the young wizards down in the crowd below, but he was still a year younger than everyone else, and on top of that small for his age. _Mother Isolt, _he was a year younger... "Remember if you need to talk to me, you know where my office is. Or Mr. – Professor – Hodges, you'll be seeing him all the time. Don't worry about talking with one of us if you... if there's any trouble. And don't worry about the other teachers, they all agreed. You won't have any problems. And –"

"Tell him not to worry one more time," Rocky said, rubbing his eyes, "And you might give him a panic attack. You're certainly about to give me one. Besides it's not like he's moving farther than downstairs."

"I know, I know." Ravina could think of a million other things she wanted to say. The summertime had slipped away so fast. But September was waiting impatiently for her to move over. It was time. She might have dreaded it, fought it, prayed for it to pass her by, but here it was. It really was time.

Credence was led around the marble, spiral staircase. The voices of about sixty other First Years grew clearer the closer Ravina drew him. About halfway down, he halted and gripped the young woman's hands tightly. The voices were overwhelming. It was quite a crowd.

"What is it?" she asked.

He swallowed. Why did his voice have to sound so weak? "I'm scared."

The girl tried to remind herself of what her father had told her countless times. She wouldn't be there to give hope-filled lectures when he was at school, she had to break away. Still, she couldn't resist saying, "You won't be alone. Mr. Hodges will be around all the time, especially if you're sorted into Horned Serpent, and I'll... I'll see you too. Worry steals the future, remember?"

He nodded, not looking entirely convinced. She gave his hand one last squeeze, and then let go. He had to descend the rest of the stairs alone, into the chaos and the noise.

**A/N: Hello, anyone who managed to sit through the first installment of this trilogy, linked here ( s/13181489/1/If-Credence-Went-to-Ilvermorny-Summer-Trials). This is the part where I actually write about a much younger Credence Barebone going to school at Ilvermorny, so this is probably what most of you came to read. Stick around and enjoy!**

**P.S. I love reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2: Boyd

Chapter 2: Boyd

If the United States government took a quarter for every time Credence Barebone had dreaded the moment of walking out among dozens of eleven-year-old, wizard First Years, no doubt they would have been able to pay off their war debt with the tax. The anticipation gnawed at him, one minute making him want to run and hide, the other making him wish he could just throw up. The Obscurus, that thing born of fear, suppression, and hatred, wriggled inside him with pleasure. Credence had to close his eyes every few seconds to remember the training he had received during the summer. He was prepared. Theoretically. He just hoped that that hate-filled storm wouldn't be the only company he'd get the rest of the year. He'd done that before. It was a lonely life.

Someone bumped his shoulder. Another stepped on his toe as they pushed past. He found the back of the crowd, someplace out of the way. The only one who stood nearby was a sandy-haired boy with half-closed eyes and his hands in his pockets under the robe, looking like he couldn't care less about Ilvermorny, or anything else for that matter.

The two guards had closed the doors by now. Many loud _'Shh!'_s could be heard as the two tiny professors that Credence had noticed earlier took positions, one on the curving staircase coming down from the right, and the other on the one from the left. They were a man and a woman, only about three feet high each. The woman had her hair gathered up in brown braids, and her cranberry robes were probably the size of a First Year's. The man had black hair with a pointed beard.

As soon as the crowd was moderately silent, both simultaneously drew out their wands and brandished them akimbo. The torches and lamps dimmed, making the little people's shadows lengthen. In complete unison, they jumped off their stairs and onto the ground, doing a flip in midair and landing without even a stumble. They dashed towards each other, linked arms and spun, kicking their heels up in the air in a way that seemed to defy gravity, then ended facing the student body and bowed. Everyone gaped, open mouthed. If anyone hadn't been paying attention before, they were now.

"Professor Mari!" the woman squeaked.

"And Professor Humi!" the man said in an almost equally high voice.

"Doherty!" they said together.

"We are your only professors who you may call by our first names, since it's not as confusing," Humi continued.

Mari added, "We're the only half-elf teachers in America!"

"I heard about them," Credence heard a boy whisper to the next nearest person, "They were in a circus. My sister said they make us preform in class and everything."

The ten-year-old Obscurial was quickly learning that arriving at school three months early didn't prepare you for everything. Not by a long shot.

"...and they will judge your deepest thoughts, desires, and aspirations," Professor Humi was saying. "So you'd better hope one of them likes you!"

"It'll be fun!" Professor Mari chirped, "Now, the Houses are called-"

A deep bang, like heavy doors closing, reverberated from a long hallway to the right of where everyone was gathered. The whole crowd seemed to start in unison, so focused had they been on the pair up front. Following came the sound of feet squelching in wet shoes, something hard knocking against the floor, and two very angry voices.

"Get your meathook off my ear!"

"I'm not lettin' go till you at least apologize."

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah? Yous gone and made us both late, Fraidy Cat."

"Shut your trap or they'll hear!"

"Good! Maybe you'll get expelled to Durmstrang and I won't have to see you no more."

Two boys, who couldn't have been anything but brothers, stumbled into view, each holding a broomstick. The taller one was dragging the younger by the ear.

The Doherty's reacted instantly. Forcing students to scramble away to avoid getting trounced by their tiny bodies, they leapfrogged one over the other, carving a straight line through the crowd like two jumping drills. The teachers seemed to have an impossible ability to leap high into the air. They landed, side by side, arms folded, in front of the two boys. Dawson and Valadez had gotten there at the same time, and the brothers suddenly found themselves surrounded on all sides, with about sixty other eyes staring back at them.

"Boyds, I presume?" Professor Mari asked.

**A/N: I will be posting Chapters 2 & 3 simultaneously, because these things are really short. As for the story, I figured Credence needed some more half-elves in his life. Though their personalities are different, Professor Mari and Professor Humi were inspired by Irma. They were originally going to be Irish, but I thought that might be pushing it. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3: Don't Mind My Brother

Chapter 3: Don't Mind My Brother

The older boy, who looked about thirteen, dropped his hand from the other one's ear and they gaped at the scene before them. Both had black, wavy hair, skin tone that reminded one of a brown shirt that has been washed again and again until it is half of its original color, long features, and hooded eyes. Trying to pinpoint their race down to a single name sent the mind spinning like a sneakoscope. Both looked like they had had a pail of dirty water poured on their heads. That bit, at least, wasn't surprising, as the rain was coming down in sheets outside. Thanks to the castle's mountainous location, they received their slice of fall early, along with a king-sized scoop of winter.

"I'll take those." Danny had moved to take the broomsticks.

Professor Humi pointed, "Go!"

"Now!" Mari continued, also pointing.

The younger boy high-tailed it to the back of the herd between Credence and the sandy-haired kid. Both the professors gave the older brother an _I'm watching you_ look as he was led away by Valadez. He shot his younger double one last withering gaze as he disappeared up the marble staircase.

Credence now had a chance to get a good look at the newcomer. Though he had seemed embarrassed a second ago, he appeared to have recovered. His eyes gleamed with an excitement that seemed hard to put out. The light blue robes dripped, and water dribbled down the back of his neck, though he didn't seem to care. The boy smelled like dust and damp. "Hey," he said, "Don't mind my brother. He's a troll."

Not sure if he was talking to him or the sandy-haired boy, who just rolled his eyes, Credence kept his head lowered as if he hadn't heard.

"-Warrior Wampuses –"

"Adventurous Thunderbirds –"

"And Healing Puckwudgies!" the professors were continuing. They began skipping up and down the giant, blobbish clump of nervous First Years – where did they get all this energy? – forcing their circle into more of a rectangle. "Form a line, form a line! It's off to the west we go!"

The confused students followed Professor Humi in a direction that may or may not have been west. Professor Mari trailed the end, just behind Credence and the other two boys. A few other professors, who had been standing to the side, integrated themselves into the margins of the line, the whole great throng making their way to the Sorting Round, one of the many places during the summer that Credence dared not have gone.


	4. Chapter 4: What House Do You Want

Chapter 4: What House Do You Want

"What house do you want to get in?" A voice next to Credence asked. It was the latecomer, and he was most definitely talking to him this time.

"I don't know," he responded, even though he did. A pause made him realize he should say more, "Maybe Horned Serpent? Just not Thunderbird or Wampus."

The other boy nearly tripped, "Not Thunderbird or Wampus? Them's the ones _to_ get into. They're the people that _do_ things. I'd give anythin' not to be in Horned Serpent, that means I'd have to be with my brother, Sam. He's a crumb. What's your name? I'm Percy. Puckwudgie wouldn't be terrible, I guess, but it sounds kind of boring. Why don't you want to be in Thunderbird or Wampus? My sister was in Wampus, but now she's gettin' married, so I guess it didn't do no good."

Credence could barely keep up with the words the boy was saying, he was speaking so fast. The accent, which became more and more apparent with each sentence, also distracted him from the words. "New York..." he mumbled, not realizing the words had actually left his mouth. It had been hard growing up in that city with a traditionalist mother like his. She didn't believe in slang, and he and Chastity had gotten reprimanded severely if either of them ever started to slip into it.

The boy called Percy grinned sideways, "What gave it away? You from around there?" When Credence nodded, the grin spread even further. "Hey, wouldn't it be weird if we'd seen each other our whole lives and never known it? What part are you from?"

Before he could respond, Credence had to stop abruptly to keep from ramming into the girl in front of him. The party had halted at last just on the edge of the Sorting Round. Four statues glared at them from the walls: A four-winged bird, a giant cat, a snake, and a little man-thing with a spikey head. They were still and lifeless; frozen without sound.

What was not still and lifeless were the rest of the Ilvermorny students. Credence looked up as he passed under the walls of the circle, and found hundreds of eyes staring down at him and the rest of the First Years. The older students were crowded against a balcony, the one on the opposite side as Credence's old room. Some cheered as the First Years came into view, older siblings calling out names and things like, "That's my sister!". Some of the meaner ones added, "Don't mess this up!" or "Hey, your shoelace is untied!"

Professor Mari held out her hand and one of the broomsticks that was still held by Daniel Dawson shot into it. She tossed the device to her husband (presumably he was her husband and not her brother, as they looked nothing alike besides stature). He caught it as if they had practiced this a thousand times and was twenty feet in the air the next second, on an eye level with the older students. He stood, balanced on the broom, hands on hips.

"Hey, that's mine," Percy huffed, but not loud enough for anyone important to hear.

"One more peep out of the lot of you," Professor Humi's high voice drifted down from so far above, "And you forfeit the right to watch the sorting..."

"Alright!" Professor Mari had stepped out in the middle of the circle so she was almost standing on top of the Gordian Knot design in the center. The Gordian Knot was a gold series like a line of rope arranged into the shape of three rounded triangles offshooting a fourth. "Your sorting is about to commence. When I call your name, walk gracefully onto the Gordian Knot and don't trip. Tripping, sneezing, talking, fiddling with your robe or turning your eyes to the left or right could throw off the statues, and we wouldn't want _that_. When one of them moves, go to the table labeled for your House." All eyes looked past her into the dark alcoves next to each statue. Credence couldn't see far down enough to know how long they were, but at the end nearest them the last bit of a table peaked out, all set with plates and goblets and decorated in House emblems. If the light would only have reached a bit further, Credence might have seen if he could glimpse Professor Hodges. He knew the House leaders always sat at the end of the table for the opening feast.

As she spoke, some other professors who had joined the entourage, fanned out to stand at the cusps of the tables. A plump woman completely decked out in Ilvermorny cranberry and beaming went to stand near Puckwudgie House. Another professor Credence knew all too well took over the Thunderbird station. Watching her, that feeling of deep dread that sat at the pit of his stomach rose up in the form of every slighting remark, bit of discouragement, or one thing and another that she put effort into to say _you're not welcome here._ Why she hated him so much, he could only guess had to do with being an Obscurial – and maybe she had good reason. The Obscurus _had_ torn up her classroom when it had run free on the fourth of July.

Boy, he hoped he wasn't Thunderbird.

"And while I'm up here," Professor Humi could still be heard shouting from twenty feet in the air, "I know you might think you're helping, but absolutely _no_ shouting at the First Years which House they should go into if they're trying to decide."

"Sometimes more than one statue picks a student who stands in the middle of the House embodiments," Professor Mari explained.

"And then it will be up to you to decide which one you want to go with," her husband suddenly appeared next to her, having hopped off the broom no less than ten feet in the air. "Choose wisely."

"It determines who you're with for the next seven years."

"So no pressure."

They turned toward each other and long rolls of parchment floated out of the opposite's pocket and into their counterpart's arms. With an about-face, they marched off to the left and right sides of the circle, lists unraveling in front of them as they went. The Obscurial felt his lungs constrict, like the whole of his chest was clenching its teeth. He knew his name would be near the top of those lists. Professor Ro was watching him. Mr. Hodges was listening, somewhere not far away.

"Pippa Anderson!" Professor Mari cried.

**A/N: So, I know in the description of the Ilvermorny Sorting, it has the students watching **_**quietly**_** from the balcony above. But I just thought to myself, **_**how are they getting literally hundreds of teenagers to watch something that solemnly? **_**Having been around many teenagers, let me say it is not possible, at least not consistently or for a long period of time. Maybe sometimes they are quiet, and that's what JK Rowling meant. Sure. We'll go with that. I know I'm blitzing these first few chapters, but they may grow slower towards the end. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5: I Choose

Chapter 5: I Choose

There weren't enough 'A' names. Pippa had gone to fill the first empty spot of the Puckwudgies, and a girl named Eileen Anmor had become a Horned Serpent, and then it was his turn. "Credence Barebone."

This was just like the trial. All those eyes turned on him as he made his way up to the Gordian knot. He was starting to regret choosing a spot so near the back; it meant he had a mass of sixty students to swim through, each one giving him another excuse to wimp out and turn back. And then he was out, into open space. The air seemed thin. There was nothing for anyone to look at but him. His steps resounded to the beat of his heart.

They didn't even know what he was; the eyes from above, the eyes from the sides. The adults knew though, and their gazes seemed the most piercing. He did his best not to look at anyone, but to stare straight ahead. That was where the statues were.

The engravings weren't lifelike. They had an artistic, flowing design, as if each one had been drawn mid-motion. The popped out of the wall, not fully statues, but more substantial than drawings too. That gave them freedom. Indeed, it hardly seemed unnatural when they moved to choose a student.

The quiet was as solid as ice. Had it been this quiet for the other two? Credence slid his feet onto the Gordian Knot, hesitating, but at the same time wishing it could be over. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the gem that quartered the Horned Serpent's head. He had been told that it would glow, as it had for Eileen Anmor, if he was chosen.

And that's when the Wampus cat roared.

The cheer that arose from the crowd of warriors above cut the silence to smithereens. This small boy was their first cadet. In all the clapping and whooping and stomping of feet – that was quickly quelled at one threatening look from Professor Humi - he heard almost nothing. The same sentence kept playing through his mind: _How could I be in Wampus? _The Obscurus pushed memories of the escape from home to the forefront of his mind. He had run. He always ran. _I'm not a warrior._

It was only with hearing his name repeated a couple times that snapped him out of the reverie. He made his way to the first empty seat at the Wampus table and sat down, shell-shocked. He would be in a House of strangers. Professor Hodges was somewhere off with the Horned Serpents.

At least he wasn't Thunderbird.

Wampus House had a streak going. At the first, the young Obscurial. Daniel Dawson caught Rafael's eye. Had he heard wrong? His friend met his gaze and shrugged. No, none of the other statues had moved even the slightest. It was hard to imagine this timid runaway as a warrior. He stood there, frozen. The sorting leaders had to say his name a couple times before he moved, as if walking underwater, off the Gordian knot. Danny tried to keep his face expressionless. The rest of the student body couldn't know there was anything special about this child. Besides, now was the time to instill some respect into these ruffians. Hardened guard of Ilvermorny, that was him. Nothing as rock-solid as that.

"Percival Boyd!" the male half-elf called.

A miss-match-featured, and very wet Boyd child pushed his way through the students eagerly. His excited face didn't seem to remember at all his humiliating entrance. _A troublemaker, _Danny noted. He remembered that same kind of brashness plastered all over his face, back when he had thought the world just existed to try and give him a challenge. Merlin, had it delivered. His eyes wandered back over to the Obscurial, then snapped to attention again. No time for reminiscing. Hardened. Ilvermorny. Guard.

The youngest Boyd practically ran to the Gordian Knot design in the center of the floor, having to pull up short to remain on it long enough for the statues to consider. Danny really started paying attention the next moment. Again, the cat-carving raised its stone head and roared. At the same time, the statue next to it flapped its giant bird wings. A double-case. Interesting.

"Great example we have here." The Doherty professors had skipped from their margins to Percy's surprised form in a blink.

Professor Mari spun him around and _poof_ – his robes were dried and his hair standings on end a little. People with elf blood in them could do things like that even without wands in their hands. Danny had stopped being surprised at this duo's antics years ago. "Wonderful specimen. What's his name again, dear?"

Professor Humi hyperbolically made a show of finding the child's name on the parchment again, "Percival Boyd."

"Hey, I can –" the boy started, but Professor Mari spun him back around and cut him off before he could finish.

"You have traits within you that both Wampus and Thunderbird want. Now, which side of your soul do you want to go with?"

"Which side – what?"

"Tick-tock," Professor Humi said, and the two were gone from his side as quickly as they had come, leaving the confused boy alone again in the middle of a staring crowd.

This time Rafael was the one to catch Danny's eye. He shook his head. The blonde man knew his friend had a particularly soft spot for people facing life-changing situations. He said that was what moving to America had done to him. He also said that _gringos_ were uptight and unsympathetic, but Danny had learned how to tell when the Mexican was joking. Maybe that was why Rafael sympathized with Credence so much. Dawson's eyes slid back to the boy and found him actually leaning forward in his chair, watching the other kid.

"We don't have all night Boyd," Professor Ro's voice came from the Thunderbird alcove. Curse that woman and her Thunderbird-ness. She gave the House a bad name.

Percy hesitated once more, "I choose, um..."

**A/N: Let me explain myself. I know I'm not the first person to try and sort Credence Barebone into an Ilvermorny House. From what I've seen, the majority of people have chosen to put him into Horned Serpent. Even my version of the character I feel would fit pretty well in there. But I **_**wholeheartedly **_**disagree. The Credence we see in the Fantastic Beasts movies should be dead like twelve years ago or at least completely broken (ok, he is pretty messed up) because of what has happened to him and from the Obscurus and keeping it secret all that time. Just surviving alone makes him an undisputed warrior. I cover this a little more a while later in the story, I just wanted to state my opinion clearly here, so as to explain my reasoning. Apart from that, I did try to make the sorting as canon-honoring as I could. And of course, I couldn't leave it without showing the two-Houses-choose-one-student situation that is unique to Ilvermorny. Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6: Magical Children

Chapter 6: Magical Children

"I'm so glad I chose Wampus." Percy was talking before he even sat down in the seat next to Credence. "I wasn't sure at first, but I hear Thunderbird's not been doing so swell lately. They ain't even won the House Cup in years. And I don't know nobody in there. Oh, sorry. I know you didn't wanna get in. Tough break, you didn't even get to choose."

Credence mumbled a reply.

Life was still going on outside. The Doherty professors had all but forgotten already Percy's singular sorting. "Boris Burke!"

People quickly filled in the seats at the end of the Wampus table. It seemed to draw First Years like magnates. The very next person called - a shrimpy redhead - got in too. The sandy-haired fellow and a dozen or so others followed, all whispering excitedly with slightly-crazed grins on their faces. Wampus appeared to be highly desired. By all except Credence. Was it just him, or did everyone seem to already know each other? Some of the boys most certainly did, and the others... Or maybe making instant best friends was just one more thing that everyone else here knew how to do that he did not. That Percy fellow was the only one who'd shown any sign that he was alive. Now he whispered to the girl on his right, his back to Credence as he watched the rest of the sorting. The Obscurus stirred deep within his soul. _Alone again. Surrounded by people, yet all alone..._

He didn't need that. He didn't need it anymore.

Professor Ro was taking over for the wand-sorting. As the quiet, nervous crowd of un-sorted First Years had dwindled and the sorted ones had begun to whisper, the group looking from upstairs had come alive too. They seemed to take the end of the sorting as permission to be noisy again as the four tables of students rose from their seats to funnel out through the long hallways.

"Take 'em down, Wampus!" a female voice screamed from high above, "knock those wands out of their hands if you have to!"

It wasn't as if Professor Ro had always had a passionate interest in wands or the wand-sorting. She liked her own beech one well enough, and the wand-sorting room was something any teacher would find an excuse to go into. Its glorious luminescence, rippling walls, and optical illusions, really made the feeling of magic pervasive here, like the wands needed a specific, pure habitat. But Ro had been in here one too many times to inspire wonderment over and over, and she wasn't the sort to show that type of emotion anyway. Two years ago, when the opportunity to be in charge of something else had popped up, she had hardly spared thought for what it was. That was just what Thunderbirds did.

So why was she, a Thunderbird, the only person to see the insanity of placing an Obscurial in Ilvermorny classes?

It was a mad plan, and anyone with any sense could see that. It was almost cruel. The boy was nothing like them, even not considering the phantom that was ten times stronger than any wizard living behind his thin curtain. It had already caused significant damage in just the three months that it had been here. What would an entire school year, mostly unsupervised, and under constant stress bring out? Magic school was no day off at a Quidditch game - though, yes, there was that. He had supposedly learned to control this monstrous force, but how could one ten-year-old master something considered eternally impossible to bridle in just a month? It was a cast just waiting to be cracked, and that was just the beginning. There was so much more.

He could never fit in with them, especially in _Wampus_ House. That band of sink-or-swim soldiers would drive him to the edge. And then he was a No-Maj-born – or raised by No-Majes at least. All of the First Years currently swimming through the labyrinth had been waiting for this moment since the first time they had ever displayed magical abilities. And why? Because their parents had told them about it, or older siblings had bragged. That was the way it _should_ be. That was the way it had always been. Professor Ro had heard that two more No-Maj-borns besides Credence were also out there, looking for a wand. They had probably never even _seen_ a wand before. Credence had been afraid to even touch one for a while. It was all wrong. Laren just hoped she wasn't seeing an upward trend in magical No-Maj descendants in America. They already had enough of that problem in Europe. Mixing with the non-magical never led to good things. Why, it was even what created this Obscurus problem in the first place. And the Obscurus was what had started everyone down this painful avenue three months ago. Since then they had given this ten-year-old a wand, which was why he was now hiding in the façade of a mirrored wall, one of the wand-sorting room's favorite optical illusions. The child was able to make himself virtually invisible to the other students, who were focused on the rows of pedestals anyway. Professor Hodges had taught him spells, slingshotting him halfway through the year on certain subjects. And he was already a year younger than the normal admittance age. All this, and he would be the picture of popularity and acceptance, Ro was sure. They had worked so hard to get him able to go to school, and he would be begging to leave before 1916.

Funny to suppose that Hodges thought they were being kind, preparing him for failure in a world that would recoil at what he was for eternity. Of course, Ro recognized what a rare find this wizard was. Managing to learn the basics of magic _and_ control an Obscurus in just a couple months? He was a miracle. But in the end, everything would crumble. This secret known only to faculty was too juicy to be kept for long. The others called Ro harsh. Maybe she was, but she was also the only one willing to face facts. Obscurials couldn't be wizards, not real ones. More importantly, Obscurials couldn't go to school.


	7. Chapter 7: It's Great Here

Chapter 7: It's Great Here

"_You don't like chicken?" _ Percy's fork dropped from his hand and he stared so his eyes started to look like those pictures of mooncalves that Credence had seen. He squirmed uncomfortably under the attention. Remembering clearly the endless pots of chicken soup NSPS had made for the street kids every day, he could taste even now the wateriness that was required of it to feed so many people. He and Chastity were never away from the stuff. "It was just never that great at my house."

"Well, it's great here." Percy said, shoving another mouthful of chicken and dumplings into his face.

Upon coming back from the hypnotizing wand-sorting room baring their new treasures - or, in Credence's case, just glad no one had caught him hiding in the corner - the First Year's eyes had been overwhelmed at the transformation of the tables that they had been sitting at just minutes ago. The whole center was now crowded with dishes that miraculously filled the minute they sat down. The hallway wasn't dark anymore, as candles from the periodically placed candelabras and bright yellow torches on the walls were now lit and flickering. The dishes and tables had been clean before, but clean in a cold, grand sort of way. Now energy and light made the metallic edges of the dishes shine like they were putting on a show. But it was the hundreds of voices that resounded before the light could be seen or the smells immerged that really transformed those tables. All the four Houses had been separated and now catching up and entertaining themselves, making a racket while they did so. Wampus was definitely the worst, followed closely by Thunderbird. Puckwudgie trailed behind and Horned Serpent – well, the Horned Serpent table was actually comparatively quiet.

Credence passed by slow enough to catch the eye of Professor Hodges, who looked disconsolate. "I'm sorry," was all he said, nodding drably towards the next table over. That wasn't helpful at all.

Going to his previous seat, he found himself next to a girl with strawberry blonde hair and freckles. She couldn't have been more than a few years older than him, but he could tell, even sitting down, that she was at least a foot taller.

"Yeah, Wampus!" She bellowed in his ear. He immediately recognized her voice as the one that had shouted from the balcony about wands. "Are you excited? We don't accept weaklings in this House. It's sink or swim, survival of the fittest. So what do you say, are you up for it?"

Credence was wishing that there was an option to voluntarily sink. Or disappear. The girl's attention wasn't fixed on him long, however, as she noticed the boy to his right. "Welcome to the slaughterhouse, Boyd the Younger. Your sister was one of the lucky ones." She reached a hand out behind the Obscurial's back, and shook Percy's enthusiastically.

"That's enough, Pleasant," said an extremely pale young man across from her, "We're not supposed to terrify the First Years."

"They're fine. They're _Wampus_."

"I know. We want 'em to stay that way, not run for the hills."

"But –"

"Pleasant, one more word and I swear, I will have your tongue removed. Not literally," he added for the benefit of the First Years. The redhead across from them snickered and leaned over to his companion, whispering something about the irony of her name. It wasn't so quiet that Credence couldn't overhear, and apparently the not-very-pleasant girl had sharp ears as well.

"I _will_ breadstick you," she threatened, shaking her hunk of garlic toast at the curly-haired runt. Even Credence couldn't help smiling a little, and next to him Percy nearly choked on his broth for laughing.

**A/N: The whole 'you don't like chicken thing' was actually one of the first scenarios I made up for this story **_**ever**_**. I don't even know why. I just thought that the stuff they were serving in the movie looked like chicken soup and also was probably disgusting. As for Pleasant's character, I got the idea for her relatively late in the game after doing an essay on Mark Twain, and hearing the name of his diseased sister. I would really appreciate reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8: You're Really Different

Chapter 8: You're Really Different

The banquet was a greater bounty of food than Credence had ever seen in his life. _Good _food. The soup kitchen's food at the NSPS had always had a grayish tint and sometimes left you with a stomach-ache. Here there were all the colors of the rainbow. Pink-tinted steak which Pleasant really seemed to enjoy; orange, chicken and dumpling soup; heavily buttered garlic bread, which particularly caught Credence's attention; smoked salmon with mousseline sauce; mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and potato wedges. The list was endless. It was impossible to try everything, even if you only had a bite of each. The stuffed table was so long that it would take ten minutes for green beans to get from one end to the other.

So much chewing and shoveling food into mouths was going on that, for a while, most conversation was put on hold. After about fifteen minutes though, the rate of consumption had gotten reasonably under control. People who liked talking made room for it whether politeness allowed or not. People with unfinished scores to settle got straight back to their points:

"_I'm _the male prefect for the Younger House. _I _decide what's ok to say to First Years and what's not."

"That just proves you're not the boss of me, _Alton_. 'First rule of leadership, know who's in and who's out'. Merlin said that."

"He did not. That's... that's pseudepigraphy."

"You made up that word! Well, someone said it. At least I don't go around trying to be a smart alec."

All over, new friendships were being continued or while at still other venues old ones were being caught up on. The older students chattered amongst each other, making up for what couldn't be said through letters. Even the First Years on the right side of the table all seemed to know exactly who to talk to. Some called each other by name:

"Oy, Burke, it's you, me, and Reitherman, alright?"

"Where did Byron Howard and those fellas go?"

"Thunderbird. You know, with Reezie and the rest."

In fact, Credence felt like he and the wash-skinned, wavy-haired boy beside him were the only ones who didn't know someone.

_Say something, anything,_ he told himself for the better part of ten minutes. This year could not be like his lonely life at home, with only one companion.

He finally asked, referring to the rowdy group that was starting to form farther down the table, "How come they all know each other?"

Percy's face darkened slightly, "You know, the carriages. They spend hours gettin' here from some places, like New York. That's what I wanted to do, 'cept... it didn't work out. I bet some people come from them wizard communities 'round here. I knew some wizards, but none of them are here yet, or they're Sam's friends. One of 'em told their house ghoul to chase me 'round the house till my legs fell off, and let me tell you, they take those things very literally. Who was in your carriage?"

"I didn't come in a carriage," Credence said.

The other boy was flabbergasted all over again. "You neither? Why didn't you say nothin'? What happened to you? I accidentally teleported my trunk halfway to Brooklyn. Took us forever to find it. Sam would have probably jinxed my legs together if he had had his wand. So, what happened to you?"

Credence had known that coming beforehand would raise some questions eventually. He was very practiced in the art of lying. Still, no one – no kid – had ever really taken an interest in him before. It was different than fibbing to keep from being whipped. "I came kind of early. They thought I would need to get caught up, since I was raised with No-Majes."

Percy nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, "You was raised with No-Majes? What was _that _like?"

"Not... great," Credence stammered.

The other boy was silent for a minute. Credence worried that he had told too much. How much weirdness was, well, normal for one person? Maybe he was just too queer for any wizard to deal with. If one person reacted this extremely, wouldn't everyone else?

On the other side of the table, he heard the older, important seeming boy talking to a girl on the other side of Pleasant: "Ok, well, we can have a small one tonight. You take the girls, I'll take the boys. We need to show 'em who's boss."

_So many warriors._

"You know," Percy said, crunching thoughtfully on his garlic bread, "You're really different." Credence braced himself. Here it came. "I mean, you didn't want to be in Wampus or Thunderbird; you don't like chicken, you're really quiet, you know; you skipped the carriage because you're a No-Maj-born-"

"I'm adopted," Credence mumbled, half hoping Percy wouldn't hear.

"You're adopted," Percy continued without skipping a beat, "You're just really weird, you know what I mean?"

Credence felt his shoulders slump – the way they used to when he was at home, trying not to be seen. It was confirmed. He would never fit in at school. It was crazy that he and the Hodges had even thought it possible. The familiar darkness moved to retake its place as 'only constant presence'.

Percy grinned, bread pieces stuck in the corners of his teeth, "I think I'm gonna like you."

**A/N: The amount of 1910s food research that had to be done for the first paragraph of this (and the first paragraph of the next chapter) is astounding. I wanted to make everything as believable for the time period as was possible. Ilvermorny students, I have established, don't have an express like the one to Hogwarts. They come in carriages, 4-8 to a carriage. And the carriages fly, I don't know if I mention that. Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Wampus

Chapter 9: Wampus

The supper dishes finally disappeared of their own accord, returning a second later laden with new treasures. Sugar sparkled with the reflections of the candlelight. Most of these things Credence had only heard about. If the Barebones had ever been able to afford sugar, it almost never went to him.

"What a dilly," Percy breathed, then proceeded to fill his plate with a piece of strawberry sponge cake, a whoopee pie, and a brownie.

At the end of everything, and after all the desserts had disappeared as well, Professor Blygull came up to dismiss the group for the night. The main orientation wouldn't be until the next day at dinner.

"Obey your prefects!" was her last instruction. Credence tried to look around as everyone was getting up and jostling each other in the crowd. The sound all the chairs made as they were pushed in on the stone floor made him grind his teeth. What had Professor Blygull said? Prefects. He had heard of these; older students who still lived downstairs with the First through Thirds and kept their House in order, imposing regulation. In a moment of panic, he wondered if everyone else knew who theirs were and would follow some strangers, leaving him alone and confused. What did he miss out on, not living in a wizard house?

"Wampus First through Third Years!"

"Gather round! This way!"

Two figures waded their way through the sea of shoving students over to where the waters were a bit shallower. Both had badges on their right shoulders and Credence was relieved to see he recognized one of them as the older boy who had been arguing with Pleasant. He looked even shorter and paler compared to the tall, chocolate-skinned girl beside him.

"First Years, I'm Rubia Robēti," she said, "And this is – "

"Alton Abernathy," the boy finished, "Follow us."

Ilvermorny was confusing enough, even when it was familiar. The wand-sorting room was practically daring you to run straight into a wall without even knowing it was there. Sometimes Credence wondered if the layout was designed to get new students lost. How did people manage who hadn't been around an extra three months to get used to it? Leading the way to the Wampus common room, Alton strutted through windy halls that sometimes hooked around or turned on sharp edges almost before you could realize it. The girl named Rubia brought up the rear. Between them, the excited and giddy crowd whispered and chattered like a scurry of squirrels. Their smiles hardly seemed anxious at all. Credence couldn't join, not even with Percy, who commented to anyone who would listen on the architecture, the paintings, the people, or anything else that popped into his mind. They passed a couple of classrooms, speeding up a little past Potions. A suspicious, eggplant-like smell was wafting from it. The Thunderbird wing they also walked by. Chadwick Boot waved at Credence from his portrait and the First Year hugely hoped no one noticed. At last, the troop arrived at a pair of blanched double doors; the entrance to the Wampus Wing. A lion – no, cougar – no, (of course) the magical cat itself was carved into the doors. Only its face, but a face in the fixed position of a snarl. All the First Years jumped a little when it moved.

"Hello again, Wally," Abernathy addressed the Wampus. The Second and Third Years all tried to look especially bored as the door gave a threatening growl in response. Quick as a Nundu, the prefect reached forward and grabbed tight hold on one of the creature's fangs. It shook its jaw hard in protest but, hardly even blinking, Abernathy pressed the fang forward, and the door pushed open.

**A/N: Yes, Abernathy is a character in this story. I've always been interested in him, even just after the first movie. When I realized he might still have been going to Ilvermorny at the time of this story (though we don't know his exact age), I just couldn't resist. Since we don't have a first name for him, I made one up. Hence, that part is not part of JK Rowling's canon. It might not have been clear in **_**Summer Trials**_**, but the portrait outside of Thunderbird that Credence talks to is Chadwick Boot. As for the living door, it seemed like something that would be in the wizarding world, especially after the statue to get into the Circus Arcanus in **_**The Crimes of Grindelwald. **_**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: My Interesting Fact

Chapter 10: My Interesting Fact

Outside, the sun was long gone. The common room was lit by the hearth fire, which carried the woody fragrance of its logs, and pulled it out of the pores of the walls. A few torches were interspersed among the lamps, flames licking anxiously close to the wood paneling. Ilvermorny liked their torches. Chairs, couches, and tables filled the large opening room, and halls curved around on either side of the hearth. Doors decorated these halls, four on each side, wide and sturdy, like everything else within view. The first door had a golden '1' implanted into the surface, and the subsequent ones followed the same pattern. The last had gold letters that spelled _'Prefect'._

"Second and Third Years, you know where to go," Abernathy said, hardly stopping to even let the newcomers get their bearings, "First Year boys, you're with me."

"And First Year girls –" Rubia began, but the lads were ushered into the nearest door before they could hear any more.

Alton Abernathy had spent an entire year of his life in this room. He felt like it should be nostalgic. The wooden walls stretched straight outwards in a long rectangle, continuing the fresh, homey scent that trademarked the Wampus Wing. There being no windows, you could almost forget that you were on a Massachusetts mountain, and begin to believe yourself in open, undeveloped western forests. A gold flower design framed the flat ceiling. Vestigial heads of creatures – a lion, a hidebehind, a dragon – poked their carved likenesses from between the sculpted plants. Almost 300 years of boys had lived in this room. Alton had been one of them, six years ago; naïve, dazzled, and following nervously like these boys. That innocence would be amended quickly enough.

"Your trunks are over there for yous," he directed them to a guddle of wooden chests pushed next to the doors, "Find a bed and get settled."

After some mixing and matching, a lot of panting and a little arguing, all eight Wampus First Year boys were seated or lazing on their claimed territory. Three who seemed to know each other had quickly found beds in a row. Two boys who looked almost identical with dark skin, pointed features, and tiny gray hats that rested atop their wavy, black hair, also stuck close together. Jews, interesting. There hadn't been any of them at Ilvermorny as far back as the prefect could remember. One of the boys, a shrimpy fella who looked like he would make a tent out of his robes and hide in them if he could, hung back behind all the ruckus until Abernathy had to get up and practically push him to the nearest bed to the door on the left. When things appeared to be roughly settled, the trunks were pushed or levitated into place. Alton sat in the only chair in the room, at the back. "We've got a pretty good group here," he observed.

The boys ranged from black hair to blonde. Aside from the twins and the boy whose head shrunk into his shoulders, the other midnight topped newcomer was someone easily recognizable as the last of the Boyd children. He looked just like Sam, only smaller, the crack of a perpetual grin, and ever-tapping fingers. Alton just hoped the similarities ended there. Samuel Boyd was known to be a bit of a grump. Like the rest of the family, Percival's features were unintelligible; echoes of black, but skin that looked bleached compared to the twin on his left. The eyes were definitely not African-looking either, and the hair was wrong.

The boy at the end of the row to Abernathy's left had sandy hair, farmer's tan, his chin rested on his hands, and looked bored out of his mind. Coming forward was a chubby fellow with brown hair swept across his forehead. He was talking with the fellow on his right, whose wavy blonde locks and light-'em-up smile would probably make girls swoon in a year or two. The last boy on Alton's left was very small. He was white and freckled, and his curly hair seemed to overwhelm the rest of him. It was practically fluorescent red.

"You boys are gonna be spending the next seven years together," Abernathy began. The room came to attention. "Let's do some introduction. I'm Abernathy. I'll be comin' here for seven years, and as soon as I graduate, I want to go work for MACUSA. Ok, let's go around now; name and somethin' interesting. Here, we'll start with you."

His pointed finger went to the very front and landed on Credence. He was caught off guard. He'd thought Abernathy would start with one of the twins and he'd have a few people in front of him to give some inspiration. Something interesting? There was something very interesting about himself that he could say, that probably no one else would be able to top, but no way was he going to go there. "Um, my name is Credence Barebone and I guess, I was raised by No-Majes?"

If all eyes hadn't been turned on him before, they certainly were now.

"_You too?" _cried one of the twins, the one next to Percy.

"Wait, wait, hold it," said the chubby kid, with some kind of authority that made Abernathy raise his eyebrows. "You mean there's _three_ No-Maj-borns here in this room?"

"They told us we would probably be the only ones this year," the other twin said.

Credence was starting to wish his interesting fact had been a little less interesting. He just shrugged.

"Alright, alright, give the kid a break," Abernathy hushed. "You – what's your name?"

"I'm Percy Boyd and my interesting fact that is that I got chosen for both Wampus and Thunderbird – and I came on a broom."

"Hey, two things is cheating," the imperious boy said.

"It's not if we already knew both of those," Mr. Sandy-Hair spoke up for the first time. Alton wanted to keep the ball rolling, "If we already know it, it counts as half. You."

"My name is Dibon Karab, and I'm Jewish. I guess that's pretty interesting."

"You stole mine, you hog!" the other twin protested.

"Should've gotten the closer bed!" his brother shot back.

"Ok, well, I'm Kir Karab, and I'm a twin – unfortunately."

Dibon threw a pillow at him.

"That's enough of that," Abernathy chided, "Let's go to the other side."

The sandy-haired kid finally seemed to wake up a little. He brought his face up off of his fist. "I'm Loner Joe."

They all waited.

"And?" the kid next to him asked.

The boy shrugged, "I guess I'm just not that interesting. People are kinda boring. I like to be by myself."

His neighbor seemed to take this as a personal offence, "So you come to a _boarding school?"_

Loner Joe just shrugged again, "My parent's idea."

"Ok..." the boy-of-many-questions turned his attention back to the rest of the room. His voice was flavored with charisma – 'listen to me', it said. "Well, my name is Finnley Finnington and that's interesting because they both start the same way, so you can just call me Finn."

"Yeah Finn – preach it," his friends on the right side whooped.

Credence was starting to have trouble keeping everyone straight. They still had two more people left.

"I'm Royal Reitherman and I have a pet kneazle, but my sister wanted it so I left it at home." – Mr. Gorgeous said.

"I'm Boris Burke and I've known these fellows" – Finn and Royal – "Since we could talk." – Runty Redhead finished.

"Well, now that that's out of the way –" Abernathy looked at his watch. "It's almost nine o'clock now. I'm gonna let you fellas talk until ten. If I hear one peep after that, you can bet your bottom dollar that your first day will not be fun. You got that? Goodnight."

**A/N: Even though we have Abernathy and a few other peeps from the canon, there's still quite a lot of Ilvermorny to fill, so I found myself a while ago in the situation of having to create a great number of characters, specifically, these boys. I always thought it would be interesting to see how different religions would react to the wizarding world, hence Dibon and Kir being Israeli Jewish (them being Israeli decendents is to account for their No-Maj-born-ness). The names 'Dibon' and 'Kir' both can be found in the long list-portions of the Bible. They are names of cities. Boris Burke's last name is taken from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Loner Joe in his entirety was a simple stroke of genius very early on in this process, and that's all I can say about him. Based on Newt's comment that wizards in America aren't even allowed to befriend No-Majes, I would guess that all-wizard communities are much more common in the States than in Britain – another reason I lot of the kids know each other. Please review! **


	11. Chapter 11: Black and Tornado-y

Chapter 11: Black and Tornado-y

That first night established the way of things for the First Year Wampus boys' dormitory, 1915. They definitely were up past ten, but made sure to turn out all lights and get under the covers just in case their whispered voices brought Abernathy storming in. This was independence for the first time, and they were not going to miss it.

At the beginning, it seemed like Finn, Royal, and Boris had the makings of a hardcore clique and would ignore everyone else like they were a clump of uninteresting flobberworms. Finn broke out of that circle after a while and struck up conversation with the Karabs, asking all sorts of questions about No-Majes. Loner Joe went to sleep the minute after their prefect left the room. Credence stayed up for a while, wondering if anyone would talk to him but in no way about to go out and try to talk to anyone else. Finn, still curious about the three No-Maj-borns, made a few halfhearted attempts at conversation but gave up after a few minutes of dead-end answers. Even Percy got into a debate with Dibon about whether Quidditch or baseball was the superior sport and forgot all about the small boy to his right. Credence, like Loner Joe, got into bed early. He was starting to wonder if this whole school thing was really going to be as great as everyone seemed to think it was. Sure, some parts of it were fun, the delicious feast first of all. He didn't know if he had ever felt so full. Talking with Percy, or more so, listening to him talk, had almost made him forget about everything else, for a while. Despite it being overwhelming sometimes, especially with that heavy accent, he was glad the first person to talk to him had been such a chatterbox. It was so much easier to listen than to actually have to come up with words. Even the boys' banter was entertaining in a way. But there was a separateness too. Like he was an outsider, a tin cup amid a set of china. He could see his own differentness like a rash on his skin. It itched at his consciousness, burned itself onto his being. Could the others see it? How could they not? Like a smell or a faint twinge of intuition, the wrongness of his existence was ever present around him. He couldn't shake it, just as he couldn't shake the Obscurus on the journey to Ilvermorny. It crept into his mind as he dropped into disturbed dreams. Well, at least he knew he would at no time be really alone. That thought never gave much comfort.

Percy didn't want to sleep.

He had kept the other boys up as late as he dared with questions and arguments and general hullabaloo. Everyone except Loner Joe seemed more than willing to stay up past curfew, and Percy, with enough sugar coursing through his veins that he thought he could stay up till Christmas, was eager to keep talking. He didn't want the lights to be turned out. Finn's argument about Abernathy expelling the lot of them was practical, but it made Percy remember that the night that was closing in. He wasn't afraid of the dark, that kind of thing hadn't bothered him since he was a kid_._ Please.The thrill absolute freedom seemed to spit in the face of the night. If he wanted to be nocturnal, who could stop him? He wasn't a little child any more.

As the darkness took root around him and the sounds of rustling from wakeful boys grew less and less, Percy felt the freedom thrill ebb away as a receding tide. The memories of the morning fought his best efforts until they shoved their way into the forefront of his mind. Those dark skeletal faces seemed to form themselves in the curving patterns of the wood on the ceiling. He turned on his side so he couldn't look at them, but, closing his eyes, they were still there.

He needed a distraction. Those things were _not_ going to spoil his first night for him.

Percy tossed and turned for a while and then sat up so he could see the rustic grandfather clock in the corner next to Kir's bed. It was far enough away that he had to stare for a solid two minutes before he could make out the hands. It was a little past midnight. There were seven hours until breakfast when scurrying around and talking would be considered normal. What could he do for all that time? Percy flopped back down and tried to think of all the wonderful food he'd had at the feast, but that just made him remember that he still felt slightly nauseas.

There was a moan from close by. Percy rolled over. It was almost completely dark. Anything further than a few yards away could have been an open, empty abyss into space and he wouldn't have known. Fortunately, his eyes had gotten adjusted enough by staring at the clock that he was able to see one bed over. And that was where it came from.

Credence was moaning. His body was twisting so that the bedclothes had wound themselves into a rope. Short, drawn, whimpering sounds lifted from his throat. Or maybe they were sobs. Percy glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed, until he was reminded that he could barely see six feet in any direction. The sounds of many heavy breaths and a couple snores told him all he needed to know. It was getting more difficult to listen for small things like that. Credence's groaning and frantic turning was increasing each second. What a nightmare this must be. Maybe he was lost somewhere; wildered on a desert, or in the middle of the ocean. Or maybe something was chasing him. The image of those creatures, which he couldn't remember the name of, pushed its way back into Percy's mind. No, no, _no._ Stranded, that was a better idea.

Before his eyes - maybe they had started to go out of focus or the light was still dimming - the scene was starting to look different. The bed was... flatter. Percy could no longer make out the struggling limbs of his roommate. He couldn't see much of anything really. No matter how much he squinted, all he could see any more was just a black shadow over the bed. Nothing distinct. It moved slightly, spreading. No, that was just the shadow of the back wall he was seeing. In the total dark, the blackness had no depth. It could have been a foot in front of him or separated by a mile. But why couldn't he see Credence anymore? He looked again, severely. No, there was the pale face. There were his arms and his legs. The back-wall-shadow had retreated to where it was supposed to be. Golly, he must have drifted off for a second and had a weird dream. Maybe he really was tired. Percy rolled over, staring morosely back at the grandfather clock. Six hours, forty-five minutes…

**A/N: Yes, I did get the idea to have Percy arguing with Dibon about muggle-sport-versus-Quidditch from Seamus and Dean's argument in the Philosopher's Stone. It's a good argument. So there. I would love reviews!**


	12. Chapter 12: In a Group

Chapter 12: In a Group

"What classes you got?"

Credence had wondered if Percy would talk to him again after he seemed to be getting chummy with the other boys in the dorm. Early Monday morning, however, welcomed the same overblown, chatty personality. The only difference in Percy seemed to be the dark sacks under his eyes paired with a bookend yawn for every sentence. Credence felt the same. Last night had yielded some very lifelike dreams that he couldn't be sure were all dreams.

He pulled out the skinny parchment that he, along with everybody else, had found sitting placidly on his trunk that morning: "Charms and Spells, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Magical Creatures of the USA, Transfiguration, Potions, and Astronomy."

"Hey, that's the same as me!" Percy said, reading over his shoulder, "Magical Creatures of the USA?"

"We all have the same classes, genius," Finn said from the other side.

Boris piped up in his squeaky voice, "Yeah, how do you think they decide where to put everyone? And what's the matter, 'fraid a hippogriff's going to bite you?"

"You can't talk, _Flowers,_" Finn shot back, and they were at it.

"I like Defense Against the Dark Arts," Credence said, rolling his paper back up.

Percy gave him a funny look, "How do you know? We haven't even started yet."

The Obscurial realized his mistake. "I, um, I know the professor, you know, because I was here early."

"Oh, yeah."

Down the room, Kir was showing Royal how to wear the yarmulke. "It can't really fall off," he was saying, "It only looks small. But – no – wait, you can't wear it!"

"Why not?"

"What about them, were they here early too?" Percy asked, jerking his head toward the twins.

Credence had known this would come up ever since he had learned that Dibon and Kir were also raised by No-Majes. Unfortunately, there hadn't been enough time to come up with a satisfying lie. He had to settle with: "No. I don't know why. Maybe the school didn't know about them." Then, anxious to change the subject, "Have you heard anything about the classes from your brother?"

Percy scrunched up his nose, "No. 'Least not that I can trust. My sisters have talked some though. I think some things have changed since then; Petra graduated last year, y'know."

He went on to talk more about some of the subjects his sisters had liked and what professors. He mentioned his excitement for Transfiguration class and Credence had to bite his tongue not to express his knowledge on _that_ professor. Probably best not to seem to know too much.

They were moving by this time. Abernathy and Rubia had been out in the common room, waiting to lead the First Years to the Dining Hall. The group once again made their way through the rigmarole of halls, which looked completely different in the daylight. Streams of it shone through the square windows. Percy commented on the empty newspaper stand set up between a couple of the classrooms. "My sister Petra did that," he said, "It's a Horned Serpent thing."

In fact, that boy didn't really cease talking until everyone was in line at the breakfast counter. Madam Foster, the cook, had snapped that if everyone didn't settle down, they could just skip their breakfast. That was enough to shut Percy up, even if everyone knew the threat was empty. Early rising Second and Third Years had already gotten their avenaceous cuisine and were taking up half the tables. Credence and Percy had just gotten their porridge and were looking for an unoccupied place to sit when Finn, Royal, and another boy who they did not recognize from Wampus sidled up to them. The way their faces looked, they could have been mistaken for a bigwig and important entourage about to propose an important contract.

**A/N: I know that the Care of Magical Creatures class was only added to Ilvermorny in 1927, however that does not mean that they didn't have a magical creatures class, just that they didn't use many actual magical creatures. They aren't caring for them, they're learning **_**about**_** them. A yarmulke is the Jewish hat. Even though Hogwarts didn't have a school newspaper, I thought an American school that is twice the size would be the sort that would. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13: JERK

Chapter 13: J.E.R.K.

"Percy!" Finn called before the group got close. Credence stopped and waited with his companion.

The pudgy boy grinned at Percy, seeming not to notice the other Wampus standing behind him. "Hey. This is Byron Howard. We're forming a group at that table over there. It's people from all Houses. Most of them are friends of mine from before, but I'm trying to get some new people. Dibon and Kir are already there. Wanna come?"

"Sure!" Percy jerked his head at Credence and moved forward to join Finn and his friends.

Finn stepped in front of him. "Just you."

Credence's face fell. He started to slink backward.

"Why?" Percy asked.

Finn continued to look only at the boy in front of him. "It's not supposed to be for just anyone. Invitation only. Congratulations, you made the cut."

"Why is there a cut? What is this, some sort of gang?" Percy's voice had lost the friendly spirit that it always had.

"Something like that," Finn answered, his smile fading too. "We can't have just anyone, especially not fellas who were obviously sorted into the wrong House. So, what do you say, you in or not?"

The focus had shifted away from Credence, which was good because he didn't want them to see him flinch at the House jab.

Percy shook his head in disgust, "Forget it. Listen, why don't the three of yous go on and take a hike. I don't like rubbin' shoulders with a bunch of street-hoarders."

He turned the other way but Finn shouted after him: "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Credence didn't like the expression on Percy's face as he turned back around. "I just know your type. They're everywhere in New York. People who trounce on smaller people because they think it's fun. They run gangs because it makes 'em feel high and mighty."

"You can't blame me for not wanting chickens in my group," Finn said loudly, nodding at Credence. So much for being ignored. "And if that's the type of people that you want to be associated with, fine. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Maybe I don't care who I'm 'sociated with, so long as it's not in a group with a bunch of jerks!" Percy said, getting steamed up as well.

Finn's eyes narrowed to slits. He sidled up till he was almost on top of Percy. That had to be intimidating, especially since Finn was a few inches taller. "What did you call me?" He asked.

The other boy didn't even flinch. "A jerk. J.E.R.K."

"_Flipendo!" _

No one saw Finn's wand come up, but suddenly Percival Boyd was zooming backward like he had been head-butted by a hypogriff. His head hit the breakfast counter and wall with a sound like the cracking of a coconut.

The Dining Hall chaperones were there in a second, and who was among them but Professor Hodges. He whispered to the shell-shocked Credence as he passed by, "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Fortunately, Rocky didn't wait around for an answer. Instead, he quickly disarmed a now surrounded Finn. Even Madam Foster had come out to see who had caused the commotion.

"I'll settle this," Rocky said to the adults and students who had begun to crowd around. "What is your name? Where this side of the Atlantic did you learn that spell? Never mind, don't answer that, it will only get you into more trouble. Detention after Transfiguration with Professor Ro. And maybe while you are there, get comfortable, it might be longer. Five points from Wampus. If you do not know what that means yet, you will soon enough. Everybody _get back_. There is nothing to see here."

He disappeared in the mess of people. Howard and Reitherman seemed to be gone too. Credence suddenly realized he had been standing there, frozen, for at least a minute. He quickly disposed of his porridge and went to the spot where Percy was lying on the floor with Ms. Weasley, the healer, examining him.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said when he got there.

Percy cracked an eye and grinned up at him, "Did you see that? I actually got a spell used on me. I flew like ten feet in the ai– ouch." His hand went to his head where Ms. Weasley was poking.

"_Episkey,"_ she said in her soft, British voice. "Right then, you should be good to go. It was just a bruise. Come and see me if you feel like throwing up after your porridge." She gave Credence a quick look, then hurried off to where the adults congregated.

"You didn't have to do that," the Obscurial said as the injured party got dizzily to his feet.

Percy straightened himself. "You're kiddin', right? I could be sittin' at a _table_ with that guy. C'mon, where's my food? I'm starvin'."

**A/N: As I mentioned in **_**Summer Trials**_**, Ms. Weasley is related to the Weasleys in Harry Potter, just several generations back and one or two across. Fan service? Why, yes, yes it is, thank you for noticing. Considering how Credence's House is of such conjecture here in the real world, I figured it would be even more of a big deal in the fictional word. More of that to come. Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Classes

Chapter 14: Classes

By eight o'clock, the adrenaline of that morning was wearing off and the First Years involved were starting to remember that it was still their first day of magic school. Everyone traipsed over to the Charms and Spells room with reborn nervousness. The cold, bleak walls and matching stone floor didn't seem to fit the witch standing in the middle of them. It was the one who Credence had noticed among the teachers at the feast, the one who fit so well into her cranberry robes that she would probably wear them even if it wasn't the required female uniform. Her cheery grin hadn't changed the slightest – like it had never left. The fragrance of roses that hung in curtains around her caused every student who entered the room to stop for a moment in the doorway and sniff.

Professor Eructo loved, loved,_ loved_ thelittle First Years. They were so nervous when they first came in and so eager to learn about these spell-things that they had grown up seeing others do, but never quite understood themselves. They weren't like Second Years, who would slubber their assignments out of impatience to get it right, or Third Years, who were starting to learn that talking to their neighbor could be more interesting than Charms and Spells. First Years were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Professor Eructo spent the majority of her energy trying to ensure that they stay that way.

The room was soon filled with magical confetti. The professor sang a song of all the spells that Credence and the others would need to know by the end of the year. Apparently, part of the homework was to memorize it. The Obscurial hoped with mighty vigor that they wouldn't have to sing it as part of their final exam. Percy murmured something feeling like he had last night when he'd eaten too much dessert. On top of this, with all the effort and willpower, spells were still spells. Catchy tunes couldn't make them any less Latin. Credence didn't have as much problem with this as some of the others, particularly Percy and the Karabs, who kept getting tongue-tied. He had to force the look of confusion everyone else wore at trying to sound out the sometimes-unending syllables. Most of these early ones he had actually already learned during the summer. The words obeyed his wand commands like a practiced magician, while the others floundered to even get a spark. Boy, he hadn't expected to be _overly_ prepared for school.

About fifty times of looking at the clock later, arrived the class he had been waiting most for. Everyone gasped a little as they exited Charms and Spells to the fresh, unsweetened air of the corridors. All dashed through twisting pathways towards Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The professor, with his white hair and all-business eyes, was certainly in his element staring down at the thirty or so First Years from Wampus and Puckwudgie. He tried very hard not to look at the young Obscurial like he had already known him for three months. Instead, he focused his energy on glaring at that Finnington fellow who was sullenly avoiding eye contact.

"D.A.D.A. is not some formula, checklist class," he reminded them, "It's practice, practice, practice. It's a mind game."

_You never know when some dark force might walk through your door, _he added mentally.

By now, everyone's most anticipated subject by far was History of Magic. Credence had been dreading it a little before the year started – all he'd ever really heard of the stuff were snatch references to Merlin and Morgana, usually in the form of swears. Could you start the year with an 'F'? Or, the wizard equivalent, 'T'? But Professor Mari and Professor Humi were so outlandish that curiosity had started to overcome his fear. Their stunts even made Loner Joe's eyes pop.

Half-elf tricks aside, History of Magic in the first few minutes looked like it was going to set itself of to be rather challenging in more ways than one. The Doherty professors enjoyed skits, or reenactments, they called them. They began calling on people who looked like certain historical figures to play roles in the First Rise of Magic. Credence found with some surprise that they almost didn't seem to know that he was different. They must have heard about what happened during the summer - all the staff had - but neither of them looked at him like he was anything more than a quiet Wampus boy who bore a striking resemblance to Aurelius of Scotia. The last time Credence had been up in front of a lot of people he was being tried for the destruction of half the school. This wasn't going to end well. Percy looked like he'd had a lollipop taken from him when he was chosen for the back of the ensemble.

**A/N: Shout out to anyone who can guess the significance of Professor Eructo's name. It's not very difficult. I had to throw in an Aurelius Dumbledore reference, even if this is a different Aurelius (not part of JK Rowling's canon, someone I made up). The First Rise of Magic is something that I figured must have happened, but is never really explained in Harry Potter lore. I mean, who came first, the muggle or the wizard? Anyway, I would love reviews!**


	15. Chapter 15: Away From

Chapter 15: Away From

The dining hall was transformed into an assembly room by the time all the First, Second, and Third Years crowded in there after their third classes. The newcomers wondered what all the extra chairs were for, until others began to fill up the hall. They stuffed themselves into the nooks and crannies like the leftovers covering the plates. Big kids again. _Good golly, _secretly thought all the Third Years, _can't we be the oldest for one day? _

When they had gotten through the dinner line, Percy sat with Credence again at the table off to the side. He'd stuck near him all morning, like being tethered by a rope. Not always just talking with him specifically, but always nearby. Credence worried that the livelier boy was just pitying him after the incident that morning.

"You don't have to sit with me," he said after they had found a lonesome spot. "I'll understand. There's probably someone else who's more interesting."

"I ain't sittin' _with_ you," Percy retorted, rolling his eyes as if this was amusing, "I'm sittin' _away from_ Finn and that hotshot gang of his. You just happen to be sittin' _away from_ them too. Here, you want my green beans?"

Credence was so relieved that he took them without complaint.

As soon as all the First, Second, and Third Years had gotten their leftovers and had reoriented themselves around the new table layout, an attention was called. The older students must eat later, as they were eyeing the steak and potato wedges on all plates with longing eyes. The prefects stood at the back, rather awkwardly. They seemed unsure whether to stick with their charges or go sit among their peers. Hunger won most of them over.

Professor Blygull appeared, apparating directly onto the front platform that had been set up. A few of the other professors grumbled passive-aggressively. It was Professor Blygull herself who discouraged any who were able from apparating while school was in session, as it might give young students reckless ideas. But caution compared with a dramatic entrance? No contest.

"I thank you for all being here and for being _quiet_," she projected, the last word ringing out until all the remaining talkers hushed up. Professor Blygull nodded at two girls who were waiting on the sidelines, giggling nervously. "We are going to start with the school anthem, sung by Zarina Anderson and Queenie Goldstein."

The two girls took the stage, waving at friends and basking in the limelight. One was a plain brunette, who bore a faint resemblance to one of the First Years Credence remembered from the sorting. Zarina was at a bit of a disadvantage, as the other girl next to her seemed to sparkle. She was like a miniature sun, with her cropped, golden curls and dazzling smile. Percy's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, like he had been petrified.

"_We stand as one united,_

_Against the Puritan. _

_We draw our inspiration_

_From good witch Morrigan_

_For she was persecuted_

_By common wandless men,_

_She fled from distant Ireland,_

_And so our school began..."_

Percy could not take his eyes off the beaming lady in the front. He set down his fork eventually to keep it from slipping from his fingers. Credence was listening to the words. He couldn't help remembering the NSPS banner blazing from the wall in his kitchen, in his sight every day until a few months ago. He felt like hiding.

**A/N: Ilvermorny does not have a non-apparition spell like Hogwarts, as is displayed in **_**Summer Trials.**_** I got the impression that Hogwarts was weird that way, and, as seen in The Crimes of Grindelwald, it hasn't even always been that way. And yes, yes, **_**yes,**_** I **_**had**_** to have Queenie in here. Originally, I did some estimation and figured that she would be in her Seventh Year at the time this story takes place. That could be very off, but we haven't heard the Goldstein sisters' ages in the movies yet, so I'm saying it's still up for interpretation. Please leave your thoughts!**


	16. Chapter 16: Magical Creatures of the USA

Chapter 16: Magical Creatures of the USA

The professor was waiting for them as the Horned Serpent and Wampus First Years came together outside the dining hall after the assembly. The boy's and girl's pink and blue robes mingled like a moving chess board. In the confusion, Credence happened to get shoved to a spot just behind Finn, who was talking to a boy he obviously knew from Horned Serpent. Their last class had been Professor Ro, it seemed, and Finn was determined to get answers.

"C'mon Hahn, how can detention with her be worse than detention with anyone else?"

"You don't know the half of it, buster," his friend said, widening his eyes dramatically.

"_Spill it,_ right now."

"Let's just say that I wouldn't trade detention with her for all the chocolate frogs in the world." the Horned Serpent replied cryptically.

Whatever that meant. At least it confirmed one thing: Ro wasn't unfair with just him. That was a little comforting until Credence remembered what he was and realized, _No, it'll be worse for me._

Professor Tsalagi's classroom was breathable. It was bright and airy, with a slight chill that made you grateful for your school robes. All that to say, it was outside.

"I know this class might seem like a waste of time to some of you," the Native American said. He held no wand, but leaned on a twisted, wooden stick as a cane. Even so, he was enormously tall. His long brown hair was braided with beads, and he wore a thick, tooth necklace that looked like the teeth had been yanked straight from a beast's maw. How this stooped, middle-aged man had done it, it was hard to tell, but his eyes sank deep with stories. Credence recognized the man from the trial: one of the jury. What side had he been on? "But I assure you, if I had paid more attention to magical creatures and took more time to learn about them, I would not be needing this." He raised his cane, and as he did so, it shrunk to the size of the ladle Madam Foster had used on their porridge. A wand. He stuck it at them. "My people believe in the power of self-experience and environment. Unfortunately, experience with most magical creatures is illegal here, so I will simply be taking you to see the life in the environment. This is an experience." He smiled, and the sun's light twinkled in his eyes. It was cloudy.

Credence really hoped this man was on his side.

Once they all got to the garden area past the marble statues at the front of the castle, there was a little problem. Credence remembered the first time he had seen a puckwudgie outside of the window and it had nearly given him a heart attack. He'd always been afraid everyone else would be miles ahead of him when it came to things like those. They probably kept magical creatures in their homes like dogs and cats. In Europe, he knew, they used them as servants. The fear, however, did not come from him this time. It came from Percy.

Credence watched from inside the garden as Professor Tsalagi coaxed two boys who refused to come in. The other was Boris Burke. Finn's name-calling of _'Flowers'_ from earlier that morning became pretty clear out surrounded by the stuff. It helped that the gang kept shouting things like, "Anthophobe!", "They don't bite, 'sept for the venus fly trap," or, "They're probably more afraid of you then you are of them! Maybe."

"What's wrong with you?" Percy asked outside the enclosure.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you?" _Boris snapped back. His pasty, freckled face was starting to grow as red as his hair. He folded his arms and wandered away before the other boy could press anything further.

"_Chicken,"_ Percy called after him.

A voice coming from high above his back made him jump, "I might not be so quick to name-call, considering where you are."

The First Year whirled around, "Sir! Professor Salma-sala... what was your name again?"

Professor Tsalagi looked mildly amused as he stared down at the scrawny New Yorker. "I told everyone to get in there and start interviewing puckwudgies. If you stay out here, you will waste all your time."

"I know, sir. See, I was gonna ask about that." Percy straightened up, trying his very best to look into the teacher's eyes. "I wanna drop this class. No offense or anything, I mean the air is really nice and stuff, it's just – "

"You think that you are the first one of my students to have a fear of magical creatures, just because you are the only one here?"

"What makes you think -! I mean, ahem, excuse me?"

"Every year, there is at least one." The man leaned down onto his wand, which had become a cane again. That was good, because Percy's eyes had begun watering from looking so near the sun. "I have never let a single one drop this class, and they have all made it through alive. You might not believe an old Indian, but some of them even enjoyed it."

Now that the teacher was on eye level, Percy was finding it harder to maintain his composure. "Couldn't I just learn outa the book or somethin'? If I pass all the tests?"

"Unfortunately, the way the law stands now, there will be more book-learning than I would like already. And I am afraid that exempting you would mean failing the most important test of all. Before you ask, yes, Sam once stood in your place as well. I do not need to prove to you that he still lives."

Percy's eyes widened, then narrowed in resolve. He _wouldn't _be proven more of a chicken than his brother, not again.

On his way into the enclosure, Percy stopped and turned around, "What about Burke?"

Professor Tsalagi looked over to where Boris was staying far away from the patch of overgrown wildflowers spilling over the fence. "Now, that is one I have not seen before."

**A/N: J.K. Rowling said that Native American influence is heavy in Ilvermorny, and that Native Americans teach there, so, obviously, I had to have a professor who reflected that heritage. There is another one too, but she doesn't come in fully until the third book. Anthophobia is something I kind of stumbled upon by accident, but once I heard about it, I **_**had**_** to use it on a character. What do you think? Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17: The Jury

Chapter 17: The Jury

Percy stumped his way through the motte, hands in the pockets under his robes. Credence wondered if it was worth it to act like he hadn't been eavesdropping the whole time as opposed to looking for a puckwudgie like he was supposed to.

"You don't have to pretend," Percy mumbled, settling the argument. "How much of a simp am I? Them things are half my size..."

Credence wished he could tell him: no, he had been afraid of those at first too. Heck, he had been afraid of wands until he had gotten his own. But that wouldn't work. Too many dangerous questions. Instead he said, "Boris is afraid of flowers."

Percy's saggy face brightened a little. "Yeah, that is pretty stupid, isn't it?"

Some puckwudgies had been found and were being interviewed by clumps of students who jotted down every grumpy word that was said. Puckwudgies, the creatures, not the House students, appeared to find no great delight in being sought out, and had made themselves scarce. The ones that could be cornered were none-too-happy about it. Credence and Percy expatiated at a safe distance, just near enough to be within earshot. Neither had a keen desire to get near those creatures. Those spikes would probably hurt if they stuck themselves anywhere. Credence was just wondering how important to their grade this assignment was, when he heard his name. The professor had entered the garden, limping unsteadily on the damp ground. _"Credence." _Percy took one look, muttered something about finding a better specimen, and suddenly had made himself as scarce as the puckwudgies.

Tsalagi stopped just shy of baring down on the small ten-year-old. From so small a vantage point, he probably looked like a little brother to Mt. Greylock, two ropes of long hair, flowing robes and all. The boy certainly cowered like he was being approached by a mountain.

"I voted for you at the trial," the professor said, diffusing the questions before they had been asked. The boy blinked, startled. A rising defense that had been mounting checked itself.

"Why?" he dared to ask.

The Indian smiled a deep-ocean smile, "I see myself in you. I think everybody does, but few will admit it even to themselves. We all have demons, Obscurial. Yours is just harder to hide than the rest of ours.

"My tribe was not kind to the idea of wizard school. They believe that magic cannot be taught in books. It comes from the world. It has its own soul, as we do. We touch it, it touches us. We see it, others will see us in it. We try to smother it, and it will smother us."

The Obscurial shivered, recalling the feeling of his body and mind being torn away by that explosion of magic.

"When I went back, it was to dissatisfaction," Professor Tsalagi continued, "And when I lost the battle with the wampus, giving me this limp, I was shunned. No, Credence, I do not know how you struggle with this creature. But I do know what it is like to be cast out be those you think are your people, and to find a home here in this castle. Where else would you have gone, if we had sent you away?"

"You don't think I'm dangerous?" Credence whispered, craning his neck to see the mountain peak.

That phantom sun appeared again in the professor's eyes. His mouth tightened with amusement. "Oh, of course you are. A place like this needs more dangers like you."


	18. Ch 18: Transfiguration with Professor Ro

Chapter 18: Transfiguration with Professor Ro

_Snap. _Burn. Credence cringed instinctively at the sound. Professor Ro was entering her open classroom, heels making harsh echoes against the stone, wand slapping into her palm like an ever-ticking clock. The naturally excited and chatty First Years hushed like they had been distracted by a sudden drop in temperature. It reminded Credence of the effect his mother had had on people, specifically him and Chastity. That fear... he shoved back the memory. Ro always had that effect. For some reason, being near her couldn't help but remind him of that time when everything was out of control, and there was only one thing he could do about it.

This class, everyone could already see, was going to be different. There were no long tables or paired benches. Each desk was separate, spread apart; a miniature archipelago with one inhabitant apiece. Even so, Percy and therefore Credence jockeyed a position as far away from Finn as room would allow. There was no door into this classroom, no back wall either. Anyone could look behind to the right or left and see halls and foyers. That didn't ease the sense of isolation however. In fact, it just added to the desolate feeling.

Professor Ro approached to the desks. Silence spread like a wave. Credence felt a chill down his spine as the Obscurus remembered its last time here. He knew the professor had most definitely not forgiven him for half-decimating her ruling domain two months ago. On purpose or not, only the Obscurus knew. But he bet he could guess.

"Rules for this class," Professor Ro boomed, though it wasn't necessary. The way she spoke, it sounded like she wanted the people passing in the hallways to hear. "No talking, no socializing, no distraction. You do your work alone. If you want to discuss your assignment after 3 o'clock, that is up to you, but during this class I _demand_ focus. There is also no looking at other homework, books, or each other. You will call me Professor Ro. If I ask a question, you will answer '_Yes, Professor', _or, '_No, Professor'. _Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor," they said, a little out of sync.

She _hm-ed_, lips tight like one who is looking for a way to be displeased. Credence wondered how many confrontations it had taken to get her to don the pink robes on top of her usual black. They suited her about as well as the silence Percy was for once exhibiting suited him.

A wooden object levitated from Professor Ro's desk and hovered in front of her. Dozens more flew from their little box and landed with perfect symmetry on each desk.

"Turn your match into a needle," she ordered, "The spell is in your textbook. You have the rest of the hour, but be sure we'll still being doing this for the remainder of the week. You may begin, now."

It wasn't fair. The task of changing the tiny, pointed stick from wood to metal might have been bearable if they at least had been allowed to chat. The large class was unnaturally mellow, the only voices being those of every student whispering their incantation over and over again under their breath. The desks were situated with enough space between them that, in order to converse, you either had to whisper fairly loudly or lean over to make yourself heard. Any action toward either of these and Professor Ro was there, as suddenly as if she had apparated. She paced the length of the room, keeping watch on student's progress, making sure not the slightest fracture appeared in her many rules.

Credence noticed to his surprise that he, the Obscurial, was not the only person Ro seemed to especially despise. Well, everyone was despised. She had docked both him and Percy five points when Percy had tried to whisper something, even though Credence hadn't said a word. But he also noticed her hanging around the twin's area, watching them work over their shoulders, and occasionally making slighting comments designed to make the recipient feel like a being of lesser intelligence. What could she have against them? They weren't the living cage of an entity bent on the destruction of everyone and everything around it. But maybe he was overthinking things. This task was so monotonous and the hour passed so slowly…

Professor Ro intentionally didn't keep a clock in her classroom. She knew students tended to become obsessed with it when something like this was being done. _Flick,_ whisper, fail. At least two days, probably more like three before they saw any real change. Teaching Transfiguration gave her the constant reminder of how slowly the skill came on. Like a turtle on a racetrack. Merlin, she hated September. Cocky little upstarts who thought they could take over the world – and she was the one assigned to whup them into shape, to teach them how sorry their skills really were.

She paused behind the desk of the Obscurial, who shrunk like a snail at her approaching footsteps. He needed extra looking after, if any student did, but that wasn't what made her stop this time. There was a gleam, a gleam of metal. A tiny point of piercing reflection. _Impossible,_ she thought. Quick as a wink, her wand was out and the former match was levitating off of the desk. The Obscurial started.

Professor Ro inspected the object from every angle, spinning it and twisting it so as to find any possible imperfection. This was maddening. "Did anyone help you with this?"

"N-no, Professor," he stammered.

"Someone must have. No one does it correctly the first day. It's unheard of."

The shard was perfectly transformed. Not a wooden patch or even a brownish tint to the metal. Half an hour of work and a perfect needle. The boy at the desk next to him hadn't even dimmed the brown color. Other students had begun to look at where the noise was coming from, grateful for the respite.

Credence lowered his head, almost wishing he was a bit more of a failure, "I'm sorry, I just said the spell until it changed."

Professor Ro wasn't listening. By Morgana's magic, if there was one thing she hated more than No-Majes themselves, it was a prodigy. "Five points to Wampus," she hissed, and turned away.

**A/N: If I remember correctly, the first Transfiguration project in **_**The Philosopher's Stone**_** was to turn a match into a needle, so I kept it the same for Ilvermorny. I know that even Hermione could only get hers to have a silvery tint before the end of the first class, but I think it's safe to say that Credence is a significantly more powerful wizard than Hermione. His canon-self's first spell ever blew up half a mountain, so… I don't think match-to-needle is too much of a stretch. Please review!**


	19. Chapter 19: Kept a Bit Deeper

Chapter 19: Kept a Bit Deeper

That it had to happen during Transfiguration, that was the funny thing. The several hundred other students of Ilvermorny had no idea that the only person discussed by the staff after that first day was the undersized Wampus boy who held himself with a _'don't look at me' _slouch and hardly spoke except to that boisterous fellow who had come on a broomstick. Every one of the adults wanted to know how exactly their Obscurial had survived his first day. The two school guards could be heard talking about it while heading to their rooms after the students had been curfewed to bed.

"They say he has already completed the Transfiguration project, the one the rest of them don't learn for a week," the shorter, stalkier, Mexican guard said.

"I know," Danny replied glumly, "I remember that match assignment. Took me three days just to make a dent."

His friend gave him a sideways look, _"Estás celoso, señor?" _

"Understood about a third of that, Rafael."

"I mean," the other persisted, "You don't seem very excited, no? You don't want him to succeed?"  
"I don't know – I mean, I want him to succeed, obviously. I'm just tired I guess. It's been a long summer."

"Yes," his friend agreed, lighting a cigar with a wand movement.

Danny's steps stopped and he looked upward in the direction of the second floor, even though in that hallway there was nothing to see but ceiling and shivering shadows, "I wonder what Ravina thinks about all this."

"I want to see him," the young woman whined as her father relayed the events of the day. "I mean, is he doing alright? He's not just all by himself, is he? You know how quiet he is. And he's so different..."

"He's been sticking pretty close to that Percival Boyd," Rocky said, calmly watching his daughter vent her feelings. For his part, he wasn't too concerned, especially since this eleven-year-old Percival was nothing like the last one he had encountered.

"Boyd…" his daughter repeated, "Why does that sound familiar?"

"I believe Sarah and Petra were both in your time. They are both graduated by now of course, but there are two of the children still left in school."

Ravina wasn't really listening. She was staring past her father's desk into a dark corner the candlelight barely touched. A photograph of five people; placid, smiling, together. "Was Mother like this when we went to school?"

Rocky's amused smile vanished. He had almost been able to forget… "I saw her as little as you did during the school year."

"But you weren't teaching when Eartha went."

"No..." the old man reached for something – anything. His wand, something he could twiddle with. "But your mother, well, her feelings she kept a bit deeper." His eyes drifted downward. For once, there was nothing more to say. "Do you feel that way about Credence?"

"No. Well, yes. I don't know," her eyes fell to her hands as well, "This is all really new for me."

Rocky agreed, "For all of us."

**A/N: I thought at this point in the story it was important to zoom out a bit and get some new perspective on what happened. The photograph readers of **_**Summer Trials**_** will remember as the one Rocky was looking at the night Credence came to Ilvermorny, the one of the entire Hodges family. If you don't know Spanish and you're too lazy to go to Google Translate, Rafael's question translates to **_**Are you jealous, sir? **_**Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20: Classic Rule of Study

Chapter 20: Classic Rule of Study

By the end of the first day, Credence had enough homework to take his mind off of the incident that morning with Finn and even Percy. Everyone, it seemed, had to put their drama aside and hit the grindstone. He even caught sight of Pleasant with an open book the afternoon of the second day, though only for an instant.

"What are you looking at?" she barked when she saw that he had seen her. He quickly went back to his History of Magic text.

Credence tried to remain as far away from Finn or any of those that sat at his table as he could. Percy had the same idea. He made faces at them when their backs were turned, which nearly gave Credence a heart attack every time. Like they needed a repeat of the first morning. After Transfiguration – a very boring hour for the young wizard, who had transformed his new match in about fifteen minutes and afterwards could only sit and watch everyone sweat – on the fourth afternoon, he hurried back to the Wampus common room, got caught outside while Wally the door-carving growled at him until Abernathy let him in, and then settled down to finish compiling the notes he had taken from the puckwudgie interviews on Monday. There was an especially poofy chair among the several recliners and couches around the central hearth. Dibon had wolf whistled when he had first seen it. The stuffing was enchanted to mold perfectly to the shape and size of the user, so Abernathy said. It had been known to actually shrink or stretch depending on who was sitting in it. Not that any of the First Years ever got to test this. The poofy chair was as often unoccupied as Professor Ro hugged someone, at least that was how it seemed. Today though, most students had opted for the library to study, making it anything but a calm area free of distractions. Even Percy had gone there.

"How can you focus when it's _quiet?"_ he asked, rolling his eyes. "No, no, you need people around so they can thaw your brain when you're gettin' mind-numbed. Classic rule of study. Also, if I'm in a quiet room for one more hour after Transfiguration I'm gonna lose my marbles."

Credence found himself alone in the Wampus common room. Abernathy had disappeared into his prefect room. Some noise was coming from the Second Year girl's dorm. But otherwise, alone. The poofy chair was free. Taking a quick glance around, the Obscurial hesitantly set his book bag down on the adjoining desk and settled himself into it. The folds of down at first threatened to smother him, but within a few seconds, it had perfectly adjusted itself to his small frame. He half expected someone to burst out of one of doors and scream at him to scat like a mangy dog. No one did, not even Abernathy. And _boy_, was that seat comfortable.

Two hours elided into one long stream of words and facts as the Obscurial lost himself in magical study. He practically forgot his earlier misgivings. A few girls passed by him, chatting and giggling, but neither took notice of the other. He was hardly aware of anything that was going on. Magic was so _fascinating. _The lessons his mother had taught him did not hold a candle to the early life of Merlin or the social structure of sentient magical beasts. Maybe being a wizard really was part of his destiny.

So hypnotized was Credence that he did not even notice the Wampuses who were returning from the library. They noticed him though. The leader sidled up and tapped him on the shoulder. He started.

"Looks like Barebone scored the chair," Finn said, "You're lucky, kid. Not many First Years can do that. How many Thirds did you have to fight off of it?"

Credence eyed him, not answering. He wasn't sure if the bigger boy was actually being amiable or taunting him. Finn seemed to use the same voice for both.

Boris Burke circled around to the other side, "Can I have a try?"

"Yeah, you've already had it for a couple hours," Royal added.

Credence, starting to feel surrounded, hurriedly packed up his things and tore himself away from that feathery embrace. Life motto for Ilvermorny: spend all spare energy trying to stay as far away from that crowd as possible.

"That's it?" Finn said as he was getting up to leave. "You just give it up just like that? This is _The _Chair, Barebone, aren't you going to try and keep it?"

Credence still didn't say anything and didn't look at them. Get away. Escape from the situation as soon as possible, before –

"He can't even look us in the eye, fellas!" Finn called to his back, "How can someone be so chicken they can't even defend a _chair? _I mean, was the sorting statue for real?"

Credence didn't stick around to listen to responses. It was the same tease, every time. _Wampus._


	21. Chapter 21: Finn

Chapter 21: Finn

That first week slipped away as quickly as Monday had dragged. The meaning and weight of his work in the summer didn't become fully clear to Credence until he'd spent a few days in classes, practicing magic with other students. The way the magical world was so different from his first life had made him think that the other First Years would obviously have practiced magic their whole lives. Maybe Percy stole his brother Sam's wand and whispered spells to himself in an alleyway. Maybe Royal Reitherman had charmed some helpful tips out of the pretty witch down the road. They must have at least learned the words or form from watching their parents do things. But Credence quickly discovered that in his short wizard career he knew more about doing magic than just about every student in his grade. That wasn't to say history wasn't a rough one. And magical creatures still made him flinch, even though he liked Tsalagi. Potions was a different story. But that first Transfiguration class really established the height of where he flew in the world of magic. And Mother Isolt, did he fly. Magic simply flowed from him. He practically reeked of it. So far, it had only taken him a couple of tries before mastering any new spell, potion, or trick, not even including the ones he had already learned. The other students were dumbstruck. The teachers were grudgingly approving. Who knew, maybe this Obscurial would grow to be the next Albus Dumbledore. If he survived past ten, that was.

Finnley Finnington hated detention. He wished he would have known who Professor Ro was before he had blasted Percy Boyd that first morning. He also wished he would have known that confessing to secretly practicing with any wand he could get his meathooks into for the last three years would get him an extra two days with her. What a witch. Finn had once come across a No-Maj children's book in the city and had seen an illustration of what those people thought of witches. It was nowhere near the truth, obviously. But being in the same room with Professor Ro for two hours a day, every day, three days in a row, and he could see where they got the idea.

This it was all Boyd's fault. First, he had sacrileged Finn's table just because Finn didn't want that pint-sized, starting-at-every-shadow, non-Wampus to come hanging around. It was _his_ table, _he_ should be the one to decide who sat there and who didn't. Anyway, using the Banishing Charm might not have been the best idea in the world, but it was Percy who started it. He should at least get detention too. Unfortunately, every time Finn or one of his friends tried to serve some justice, that slippery eel always had some sort of smart comeback or playful threat to dodge with. It was infuriating. He wasn't even as righteous as he seemed to think, accusing Finn of meanness and then turning around and calling his group names a second later. But, of course, _Boyd_ couldn't be made to see that. He was a regular walking fountain of words, un-shut-up-able. If his gabble could have formed an impenetrable shield around him, it would have. In fact, the only thing related to Percy that was not protected by his unending banter was that pipsqueak he hung around with so often, Credence Barebone. Now there was an interesting case. That fellow was as timid and quiet a genius as they came. It was kind of annoying. Finn wasn't sure what the carved statue had been thinking when it chose him for his House, as Credence was about the least warrior-like student in all of Ilvermorny. Heck, in all the world. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that Finn didn't want to be associated with a fellow like that. Why did Boyd gotten so uptight about it? Sure, Credence was good at magic. Anybody could be good at magic. Finn was good at magic - _and_ he was brave, _and_ popular. Yet Percy seemed to think he was being noble or something by hanging out with Credence and landing Finn in detention. Well it _wasn't_ noble. It was downright mean. Again. Percy would see that soon. Finn was sure he could find a way; a secret door, some mechanism that Boyd would never suspect he would use, and thus was unprepared for. It was there. All Finn needed now were some good ideas of exploitation.

**A/N: Considering how incompetent all of the students at Hogwarts were (even the pure-bloods) upon first arriving, I don't think it's a stretch that three months of intensive magical training would have shot Credence ahead of them. Also, I figured Albus Dumbledore is old enough to have garnered a cross-continental reputation by now. Please review!**


	22. Chapter 22: Son of Morgana

Chapter 22: Son of Morgana

Daniel Dawson had once stopped expecting his job to hold anything really dangerous or out of the ordinary. That was before the Obscurial. He noticed that recently, his nightly routine of skulking the bottom floor of Ilvermorny had gotten a lot more exciting, as with each trap he would expect it to be undone, and every noise and shadow needed to be investigated until it proved to be nothing more than what it seemed. It might sound silly – or a good way to get more effective at his job. He wondered if part of the hazing for real Aurors involved sticking the new recruits in some life-and-death scenario to be forever engrained in the back of their minds. Maybe he could confirm his hypothesis one day. If he ever actually became an Auror. Maybe they would let him skip that bit, as nothing could be more jarring than being attacked by an Obscurus.

It wasn't as if the final patrol never yielded exciting adventures. This time of night, the early time, was the hour of the troublemakers. Mr. Clihf didn't have to deal with all the children who liked to sneak out right around curfew to preform mischief. Danny _had_ been told that an 'insurmountable' number of illegal meetings happened just as the clock stuck twelve, but the only part of that that Danny had to deal with was Mr. Clihf's complaining about it. No matter. There was plenty around 9 pm to keep them occupied. Rafael and Danny liked to compare as they were heading to their rooms how many schemes they had foiled during the time between classes ending and lights out. Dawson, by now, had held the winner's crown for five weeks running, and he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. It helped his guarding skills that he was an ex-troublemaker and current paranoiac.

Danny was just starting to wonder if double checking the locking spell on the Potions door was really necessary when he heard voices faraway. Taunting voices. _Trouble._ Finally, he would have something real to do tonight. The guard drew his wand and jogged as fast as he dared go without being too loud around a few twisting passages and dead ends. His guard-sense could tell something was up, something more than your usual group of late-night strays. The air sent his eyebrows sticking up like his hair. It crackled like, well, magic. Slowing down, he followed the wall till he found a corner, light glowing on the other side. He stopped out of sight, subtly peeking around to see what was making the noise.

Three, four, five First Years, all boys, were crouched or bent with their wands pointed in a singular direction. Fortunately, that direction was the opposite of where Danny was standing. The First Years were snickering uncontrollably, and some were shouting things at where the source of their entertainment seemed to come from, Mr. Clihf's closet. It was a little thing, invisible to most people, in the middle of the three-hallway intersection. One of the boys held an extra wand in his left hand.

"Come and get it, if you're so good at magic!"

"Come out and fight us like a Wampus!"

"What are you talking about? He's no Wampus."

More hysterical giggling. It was hard to see clearly in the magical torchlight – back hallways like this didn't get the privilege of lamps – but Danny thought he could make out a shadow, a shape, hiding behind the cracked door of the closet. They had cornered someone. Wampus indeed. This wasn't a warrior's battle, this was cheap picking. He raised his wand and whispered, _"Expelliarmus."_

Six wands jerked out of the oblivious boys' hands and into his extended left one as he stepped out into full view of the torchlight. "What do we have here?"

"It's the guard!" One of the fellows, a couple inches taller and wider than the rest, cried. Smiles gone, the others scampered in a jiffy. Some hesitated, looking longingly at the wands in Danny's hand. "Leave them!" the same boy ordered, and they were gone. Danny didn't chase after them. They hadn't been doing anything illegal, barely. It was still a few minutes before curfew. He pocketed the wands to give to Professor Eructo later, and walked quietly to the closet. The figure inside didn't venture out. Now that the other voices were gone, Danny thought he could hear a faint whimpering, quite opposite to the laughter on the outside. That whimper sounded familiar.

He drew open the door, "Credence." The boy was curled up, with his head in his knees, trembling. There wasn't a torch in the closet, and Danny didn't like the way the child looked as he sat there, mostly in shadow. It brought back too many hard memories. Still, this wasn't a complete surprise. He had figured something like this would happen sooner or later. It was just a good thing it came with nothing... extraordinary along with it. "Credence. The boys are gone. I have your wand."

The man reached his hand, which was holding it, out timidly. Credence jerked with a movement so sudden it made Danny spring back. "Leave me alone!" The voice was so unlike the quiet one Danny always heard him use. He saw the head for a second, as it raised briefly to take in the new surroundings. He barely had time to take it the red and damp cheeks before it ducked back in its hole again and the boy's shoulders shook.

"Curfew is in a few minutes. Uh... don't stay too long," was all the guard could think to say. There was more, he knew it. Say something, _anything. _What would Ravina say?

_You lost that right the night of the Incursion, Buster,_ a voice inside him chided. He shuffled away. It was right. He had burned all the Obscurial bridges. Why would he have ever needed them?

"Here it is," he said, setting the black wand down next to Credence, who grabbed at it as soon as he moved away, like a starving street waif on a loaf of bread.

Finn was just a bully. His friends were his armor, plated with extra hands and voices.

_No, Finn was everyone. His friends were the world, though some disguised themselves as open-armed and welcoming. They all thought that way inside. _

No, that couldn't be right. Ravina cared about him, and so did Professor Hodges, and Percy maybe. He had been a constant and not stepped down under the pressure.

_Then why was he alone now? Where had all those supposed comrades gone now that he needed them most? They were not constant. They flitted in and out, poisoned by his sorrow. Maybe it was better if they left._

His wand was gone. It was dark. He was powerless. He couldn't do magic.

_There was one form of magic that could be done without a wand, one that only he could do. Just had to shove down some of that aching power and give way to its omnipotent pull. _

He couldn't. He would be banished from the school.

_There wouldn't be a school. _

All these people he liked...

Credence felt the first beginning stages of the transformation as warning lights blocked his only escape. His vision became misty. The skin of his hands as he looked down on them and turned gray, then became completely invisible as the Obscurus took over his sight.

_NO._

He had promised Mr. Hodges. He had promised them all. With a leonine effort, the fog around his mind disappeared leaving only the boy, trapped behind a wall, alone.


	23. Chapter 23: Wizard's Chess

Chapter 23: Wizard's Chess

The black chess pawn fractured into a hundred pieces with a satisfying _crack. _Kir brushed off some debris that had splattered all the way up onto his robes. "Why do wizards have to make everything so interactive?"

"How does bein' a No-Maj not bore the heck outa yous?" Percy flipped the minute hourglass and grinned at his opponent.

"Did I hear destruction?" A loud female voice came down the hall from the Third Year girls room. "Ooh, Boyd the Younger versus Kir the Karab-ster."

Dibon was watching over his brother's shoulder. "You might want to-"

"Ay! No helpin'!" Percy narrowed his hooded eyes at Kir. "We's past the spar now. It's me and you. You either win... or die."

The other boy narrowed his in return, "You just try it."

Six moves later the No-Maj-born was cleaning up more chess-piece-confetti from all over his side of the board. Pleasant was hooting and hollering, much to the annoyance of the others trying to study.

"It'll reform," Percy said, basking in his glory. "The pieces know when somebody loses."

"Whatever."

"Boy, that was _ugly,_" Pleasant said, obviously enjoying every minute of it. "Kir, buddy, you gotta work on your offensive strategy. You got _pounded_ into the ground like a -"

"Right! I get it." Kir picked up his bag of books hot temperedly, "I've got some studying to do."

"Oh, _sure_," Dibon teased as he left, but he quickly followed a minute later when he realized Percy was trying to catch his eye for a redemption round.

"Hey, Credence," the victor twisted in his chair to see the boy reading from a textbook by the fireplace, "Wanna learn wizard's chess?"

The Obscurial looked over, then around the common room for any sight of Finn or his gang. There was Royal, practicing spells with a bunch of girls, Abernathy reading in one of the great armchairs, Pleasant wandering, looking for entertainment. Chess didn't sound too risky.

"Alright, we've got a clear objective here, we've got a strategy. You ever played chess before? Well, we do it a bit differently, more lifelike – "

"Hurts more too!" Kir called from inside the First Year's room, where the door had been left swung open. Percy glared in that direction for the interruption.

"What he's trying to say," Pleasant took over, "Is that we make this for nerves of steel, for warriors. You think you got what it takes?"

Credence glanced around, really hoping Finn or anyone associated didn't catch on to what he was doing. Warriors. Would never hear the end of it? Two weeks with those taunts following him and nowhere did he seem to be free of it.

"Good enough," Percy declared, then set off for about five minutes explaining the rules and strategy for each piece, which, combined with his thick accent, made about as much sense as Professor Eructo's spell song which was all in Latin. Pleasant tried to translate by turning Percy's explanations into violent movements like taking a pawn and trying to smash it on the table. Credence wasn't getting any more excited about this. He tracked Royal with half an eye, who seemed to have been lured out of his gaiety by all the noise the older girl was making and had noticed who was playing. They caught eyes, and Credence quickly looked back at the chess board. He hadn't liked the other boy's look.

"Time's a'tickin'," Percy prodded. He had already done his first move, and Credence quickly advanced a black pawn in return. That was the wrong thing to do. The white pawn drew its swords and slashed the other one to pieces with two swift strokes. Credence winced.

"Hey, Boyd, I think you picked the wrong game," Reitherman's voice came from across the room, "That one might be too intense for Mr. Wampus over there."

"Come and fight me yourself, 'stead of hiding behind some girls," Percy shouted back, ignoring Pleasant's protest. "It's your turn, you know."

Wally made some gruffly sounds on the other side of the door and Finn walked in, attended by a few of his other, out-of-house friends. This wasn't going well.

"Twenty seconds," Percy warned.

The next few moves, a couple more pieces were slaughtered. Credence couldn't help it. He cringed at each one; habit. This had happened at his old home too, when Ma had held his belt. He could almost feel the burning. No one knew about that. It was almost funny, he never minded violence when _he_ was the one causing it.

The game and his reactions were already drawing more than a little attention. Finn's gang had drawn near to watch, snickering every time one of the pieces took out a weapon. Even Percy looked like he was starting to regret asking Credence to play.

"I was right wasn't I?" Royal said, "Too much for Mr. Wampus."

"I bet Pleasant could beat you without flinching, Boyd," Byron Howard from Thunderbird said to Percy, obviously not knowing what he was getting himself into. "And she's a _girl_."

Pleasant's Seventh-Year-sized hands balled up into fists, "You want to say that a few feet closer, Howard?"

"They're just chess pieces!" Finn cried incredulously. He turned to Byron and the Horned Serpent he had brought with him, "Forget him. Most Wampuses are braver than that. He's just a freak."

_Freak._

"Shut your pie hole," Percy said loudly, but he turned a concerned eye to Credence as he mumbled, "Just try not to do that, ok? They _are_ just chess pieces."

The younger boy felt like a bridge was being laid on top of him. He couldn't just forget. He couldn't. But he could play a chess game, couldn't he? He could be a normal enough child to do _that._

The white knight put a spear through his queen.

"I can't!" He was up on his feet, pieces of pieces jolted from the table. All eyes stared at him. Finn and Royal's swirled with satisfaction. Percy's lowered in disappointment. "I can't," Credence whispered, then he was out of that chair; out of the room before the peals of laughter had time to register. For once, he didn't even notice Wally. He was gone into the hallway.

**A/N: I originally made up this scene with nothing really serious in mind. I was just thinking about social interactions that normal kids might do at Ilvermorny and how Credence might respond to them, and I combined that with the scene were Ron teaches Harry wizard's chess from **_**The Philosopher's Stone.**_** It was only later that I realized, 'Hey, this might actually be useful to the plot'. As for Credence's reactions, in **_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: The Original Screenplay**_** it mentions Credence flinching or something when he sensed violence or anger near him (Henry Shaw's office). I thought that was an interesting aspect to his character considering all the destruction and death he causes during the movie. Please review!**


	24. Chapter 24: Who's Gettin' Soft

Chapter 24: Who's Gettin' Soft

"Alright, shut up! It wasn't that funny."

Percy grumpily reset the remaining pieces. Pleasant, Royal, and the out-of-house gang were still hooting at the spectacle. Finn watched them all with a smug look of satisfaction.

"Walked right into that one, didn't he, Boyd?" He said to Percy, "Remind me why you're still friends with that fellow?"

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Might have a point, you know, Boyd," Pleasant said, "I mean, even Dibon wasn't afraid of your little chess pieces."

"I heard that!" came a shout from inside the dorm.

"Abernathy, a little help?" Percy called over to the older boy who was buried behind that week's addition of the school paper. Alton hadn't so much as interjected when the commotion started.

"Let him be, fellas," the older boy said, not even bothering to raise his voice.

_Some prefect,_ thought Percy.

Finn stepped sideways to block his way out of the table, "You should really listen to me, you know. Wampuses don't go calling for help. I think you're getting soft. I think he's poisoned you."

"You'll see who's gettin' soft, you son of Morgana!" Percy's hand clamped on his wand, and he rose off his heels.

This time, Abernathy did notice the raised voice. He was out of his chair and had his paper levitated to the side just in time to grab the two boys by the backs of the robes. "Now that is enough of that, you hear me? I am tired of the two of yous always at it, so if you have a problem, take it somewhere else and resolve it like civilized men, or don't go around botherin' people about it. Now I'd better not see either of you within three yards of each other for the rest of the weekend unless you're having an actual discussion. You hear me?"

He let them go with a huff. Finn gave Percy one last _'I'm not finished with you' _look before turning back to the friends he had brought in. For once, all Percy could do was watch.

The Obscurial skidded against the stone wall. It was cold. Being near it left a metallic taste in his mouth. No, that was just from trying not to cry. He slunk down the rough edge, not caring if anyone saw him this way. He wished someone _would_ come. He wouldn't be so alone. How could a place so full of people be so lonely? The feeling reminded him of New York. That reminded him of Percy. Even Percy would think he was a coward now, just because he couldn't watch little chess pieces get beat up. He thought about going to Ravina. But no. The sad, disappointed look she would get when she heard about what went on in Wampus House would be worse than what he was feeling right now. Professor Hodges was his friend. He could go to him. But Finn would find out and life would just get worse for him. It wasn't right, but nothing was better than something.

He curled up against the wall. Nobody came.


	25. Chapter 25: I'm Smarter Than You

Chapter 25: I'm Smarter Than You

Madam Foster liked to experiment on Mondays and Fridays. Sometimes it was delectable, but trying new things had never been Credence's forte, unless it was necessary to live. That meant that Mondays and Fridays were usually the days when he went to class on an empty stomach. Boiled eggplant on toast or calamari were just a little too rich for his blood. Adventurous Thunderbirds obviously couldn't get enough of it.

Aside from these semi-weekly surprises, most days things advanced in a schedule that had come to be routine. Get up and out before Finn or Royal or Boris had time to tease him about anything; maybe listen to Percy read a letter from his sisters or mother over breakfast if he had gotten one; sing with Professor Eructo; listen to lectures on everyday Dark Arts from Rocky Hodges; and then watch or sometimes participate in dramatic historical takes put on by Professors Mari and Humi. Overall, the mornings became enjoyable times for Credence. A time consistently good – now that was not something his waning ten years was used to. He felt he could go on like this for a long time. If he lived, that was. That thought always ended pleasurable consideration. November and his eleventh birthday _were_ only a month and a half away.

During dinner, he and Percy still made it their business to sit at a table as far from Finn's as was feasible. And it usually worked. The popular group seemed to make actively shunning them a point of priority if they weren't busy drawing negative attention to them. It was after midday that things got sketchy. Both the boys were still skittish in Magical Creatures of the USA, if there were any creatures to actually see. When there weren't, the class mostly revolved around lectures from the textbook, and an occasional story from the Native American. Even Credence had to admit that Magical Creatures of the USA without said magical creatures could get pretty dull, even if the things did make his hairs stand on end. As for the last class, Transfiguration, it hadn't taken much convincing from Credence to make a proselyte out of Percy. No more would the energetic boy speak excitedly about of the transforming of objects. In fact, between that class and Potions, Percy had become downright mellow in the early afternoons.

Potions was an energy-sapper in and of itself. Some of the students might periodically fall asleep if they didn't have to get up and mix ingredients every once in a while. The teacher was a thin, sallow man who went by the name of Nhàm Chán to those who could pronounce it, and Professor Chán to those who couldn't. He had been teaching that class for ten years, and it showed. If that man had the ability to show emotion, he didn't make it obvious in the classroom. Even his cat, Con Mèo, which clung to his shoulder at all times, never showed even the slightest twitch of the whiskers when it was annoyed. It never even blinked. Thank goodness for the brain engagement of measuring aconite down to the milligram, or else even Credence, who enjoyed most classes at least to some degree, would have fallen prey to boredom like everyone else. Stirring the cauldron some days, he wondered what his mother would do if she could see him now. It actually wasn't a question. He knew exactly what she would do, and it would be sure to go down in wizard history.

Their weekends off were broken by the addition of Astronomy class. Professor Luckey had them up in a wide tower from nine to eleven Saturday and Sunday, either using the newly mastered Lumos charm to read star maps or actually gazing for hours up at the heavens. Electric lights were never used at the castle, and they were far above any modern metropolitan areas. City children, Obscurial included, were enthralled their first week. Never had they seen such stars. Somehow, the bright shimmers seemed nearer on Mt. Greylock then at home, though it wasn't even a mile. That wonder lasted through the first couple nights. By the second week, the night sky was starting to look familiar. By the third, it was downright predictable. And, unfortunately, the class still took place in the dark, which meant tricks waiting to be played was a temptation too great to resist.

Credence still wasn't sure why Finn's gang hated him so much. He was used to being hated. It was like a shadow he could never shake; one that changed form but never disappeared. Usually, though, he knew _why_ people hated him; having magic (his mother), not having magic (Professor Hodges, at first), the Obscurus inside him (everyone), trying to uproot a two-hundred-year-old castle (also everyone). He knew Finn and his friends teased him for not being brave like other Wampuses, but that didn't seem like enough. He never got in their way. He hadn't been the one to get Finn into detention, that had been Percy. He never slandered them or made petty threats or invited them to fight. Percy did that. But they were never as hard on him as they were on Credence, though they certainly didn't go easy on the cheeky kid either. The Obscurial just couldn't make a picture from the pieces. They didn't know about his problem, not any of his stacks of secrets. They didn't know about the NSPS, or all the things he had done. What on earth was he doing wrong now?

**A/N: Professor Chán is Vietnamese descended, but does not have an accent. His name and the name of his cat are Vietnamese words. Please review!**


	26. Chapter 26: 1915's Dueling Club

Chapter 26: 1915's Dueling Club

"Great. S'now we're in third." Percy slapped the one-page school paper titled _The Ilvermorny Imager. _Once a week it came out. Percy had been right. The people who ran it were mostly Horned Serpents, and also mostly in the Fourth-through-Seventh Year group, which meant that the younger students had to wait a varying amount of time for one of them, usually a bispecled girl named Biani, to come crawling out of their second-floor hermitage and deliver the weekly news. Credence had never been to a public school, as his Ma wanted to educate him and Chastity 'right'. No telling what queer and unnatural folk hid among the normals, going unnoticed. But he had gotten the impression that no one really read school papers. Here it was different. Here there were House points to keep track of.

"It's probably me in Transfiguration," Credence said glumly as they shuffled out to breakfast.

"Nah, Ro awards you almost as many points as she takes away. It probably drives her crazy. No, if it's anyone it's Dibon and Kir. They drew some short straws for that class. The three of yous probably get docked ten points each every day. I think Ro must have it in for our House."

Credence wondered for the hundredth time what Professor Ro could possibly have against the Karab twins.

The two of them had made their way to the dining hall. Credence had taken the _Imager_ and was browsing its contents now that Percy was done with it. The easily-distracted boy only really got the paper to keep track of House points and didn't have the attention span for the rest of the page; like a No-Maj child paying an entire dime just so he could see if the Yankees were ahead.

Credence was reading the excerpt on the Halloween celebration coming up in a month when Percy shook his shoulder. "Look what's new," he indicated, and so Credence looked.

They had stopped just outside the dining hall. Madam Foster's voice could just be heard over the hubbub: _"Haggis. It's _hagg-is,_ and it's normal in Scotland. Children your age have it every day, and they like it too. Now, I will not have any more of that look." _The bulletin board they passed three times a day had slowly grown more and more cluttered over September, as activities such as Quidditch started up again. It was like a visual manifestation of the torrent of crazy voices always coming from inside the door. Today, however, there was something new and noticeable; an advertisement with an attached sign-up sheet.

_FIRST TIME EVER ALL AGES WELCOME, _it read. _This year's dueling club, co-taught by Professors Eructo and Hodges, will teach you how to practically use spells in attack and defense. You will also be taught proper wizard dueling technique. Valuable for all students who want to pursue careers as Aurors. _Underneath it listed some dates and times for when the club met. Even lower was the signature form. They weren't the first people to see it.

"Sweet!" I wanna piece of this." Percy took the adjoined fountain pen and scribbled his name down in his cramped cursive, then checked himself. "Oh great, look who got here first."

On the bottom half-sheet with lines for sign-ups, a couple of First Years had already jumped at the _ALL AGES WELCOME. _Credence didn't need to look.

"Ugh, I wish this thing could un-write," Percy complained, "Finn'll just wanna get me back for getting him in detention, and now the professors will be _tellin' _him to throw spells at me. You know, I think this school needs some serious reassemblin'." His eyes turned to Credence. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you gonna sign up or what?"

Credence's mind could suddenly only think of one name on that list. "What? No. I can't."

"You always say that!" his friend complained. "C'mon, you gotta help me out here. You're ten times better at magic then I am."

"I'm not _that _great."

"You are. You already can do way more spells than the rest of us. You can even impress Professor Ro, remember? At least she's not gonna be there."

Credence wasn't used to being praised. It was almost uncomfortable. A fire that warmed instead of burned, but a fire nonetheless. He let his gaze linger on the list of names. What dark form would dueling bring out of him? That was something Percy's argument couldn't know.

**A/N: After reading about the dueling club in **_**Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**_** I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to use it in my story. It's just so useful! And it's something I could totally see Credence doing as he's such a wizard protégé. Finn is also a wizard protégé, so it's believable that he would be drawn to it too. Please review!**


	27. Chapter 27: Practice, Practice

Chapter 27: Practice, Practice

The professor's gaze lingered on the First Years who arrived seriatim behind their predecessors. He wondered if – yes, there was his Obscurial, trailing behind a much more excited looking Percy Boyd. Poor First Years. Rocky had been one of the skeptics about allowing them to join this year. They would get in over their heads and just slow the others down. But with Professor Eructo co-teaching, what could you do? It looked like half the turnout was made up of Wampus House. How long would it take the Horned Serpents to get up out of their books and start to represent?

"Listen up. This may be a club, but it is also a class." Rocky's voice echoed through the room until he could hear it with sufficient silence. "1915's dueling club; you members can think of it as Defense Against the Dark Arts Part 2. This is where the practical application comes in. I told you last month that my class was going to be practice, practice, practice. Well, this is going to be practice, practice, practice, practice, practice - one more for you, and one more for the fellow you will be dueling. It is very important to – _Bombarda!"_

"_Protego!" _Professor Eructo answered without a second's hesitation, _"Everte Statum!"_

"_Finite!_

"As some of you know, saying the words is not really important," Rocky said, spinning his wand lazily and patting down his hair that had stuck on end a little, "Quick reflexes are the key to good dueling."

The room gazed open-mouthed at the two teachers. The spells had flashed like miniature firecrackers. The children near the front quickly realized extra smoke was still lingering in the air, and shut their mouths before they could cough.

"Do you think they'll make us do that?" Credence whispered to Percy.

The latter blinked, trying to erase the speckles left there from the explosive, blinding lights. "They'd better give us some training first. But look, you got bigger problems." He angled his nose so that it inconspicuously pointed at a woman in the shadows to the left, one of the few other chaperones besides Professor Hodges and Professor Eructo. Credence shrunk into his shoulders.

"Alright, ducks," - Professor Eructo had taken over - "when I say so, you're going to get into pairs and we're going to do some skills testing to match you up with someone at your level. This just makes spells so exciting, doesn't it?"

No one heard her last comment. They were all buzzing about the teammates.

"_We _choose the pairs," Rocky said over the discord. "No one wants a First Year to be torn to pieces by someone with three times his experience."

"Nuts!" A voice from the Third Years complained. It was Pleasant.

Rocky ignored her. "I want to show the newcomers how this works, so I am going to need a volunteer."

A lot of hands shot up, including Percy's. Credence sank even deeper into his hole.

Rocky was just musing over the crowd when the voice of Professor Ro came from the left wall, "I know that you said this was supposed to be Defense Against the Dark Arts Part 2, Professor Hodges, but isn't this dueling club supposed to be co-taught? You seem to be calling all the shots."

Only Rocky's eyes turned her way, but they were filled to the brim with an expression of pure distain. "Allow me to finish," he said through his teeth, "Professor Eructo, will you pick two volunteers?"

"Oh! Certainly. Two volunteers… hm, hm. Oh dear, so many to choose from..." Students with raised hands let them droop slightly out of soreness. The woman did this in class too. It made oral quizzing drag like a potato bag filled with rocks and sand. Professor Eructo turned to Professor Ro, who had advantageously made her way to the front, "Laren, would you like to pick for me?"

Ro glared at the use of her Christian name, especially in front of students. However, she wasn't about to complain. "Yes. You, Finn, you were quick. Another First Year..." Her eyes settled on one of the people not raising his hand, a more familiar face than most of the other new attendees. "Barebone. You'll try with Finn, won't you?"

Several faces paled with alarm. One was Credence, who at that moment began to wonder if Laren Ro would follow him to his grave. The second was Finn, glancing over at his timid but incredibly talented housemate.

"Laren, what are you doing?" Rocky hissed through the corner of his mouth.

She drew near to him so they could speak in hushed tones. "You said an even match. That Finn has been practicing a lot more than any First Years except the Obscurial."

"Practice does not always equal talent and brute force."

Professor Ro turned a shrewd eye to him, "If he can control it as well as you say he can, then there shouldn't be a problem."

Rocky could pick out a thousand holes in that logic, but he wasn't one to miss the sharp hook on a baited line. She could see it just as well as he could, but if he kept arguing with her she would have already won.

There were a few long seconds in the aisle when Finn and Credence had to walk side by side on their way to the front. Credence's wish that he would be left alone here was obviously too much to hope for. As they met, Finn leaned in and whispered so quietly that only the other boy could hear, "Just leave this to the real Wampuses this time, Barebone. We need to keep up a standard."

Credence kept his gaze to the stone floor to lead the way up front. All those eyes watching him again... Why did these kinds of things always have to happen to him? When they arrived at the front of the room, Rocky situated them on a parallel plane, about ten feet apart. "Alright, now the thing you need to remember about wizard dueling is the defensive stance. You cannot be offensive if you're dead, so defense is actually more important. I know it may go against your Wampus instincts, but... Both have your wands? Now, we are going to use the Knockback Jinx because Mr. Finnington seems to like it so much." He gave Finn a sideways look that made the eleven-year-old squirm. "Everyone should be watching by the way, you are all going to have to do this here in a minute. You know the spell, don't you Credence? Alright you two: when I say 'go', cast the spell at each other. If your aim is not somewhere in the South Pacific, the two spells will meet in mid-air, and whoever does not get blown backward wins the round. Remember everyone, 'winning' does not necessarily mean anything. This is just some skills assessment to see who is close enough to your level to pair you with for now."

Credence's mind had drifted from Mr. Hodges long ago and resettled on where Finn's wand almost glowed already, like his eyes.

"…two, one..." Rocky counted, "Go!"

"_Flipendo!" _both boys shouted. Two identical shoots of blue lightning whizzed from the left and right, tethered to their caster like a ball on a string. They crashed together midway, sending the room into an oceanic solar flair. Credence felt the power pushing against his wand. The spell was a twin; exactly the same. The force was the only difference. He felt it spewing from him, into his wand and out with the blue line of light. It was working. Like rolling a boulder, he was edging his way forward. The glow emanating from Finn's wand grew dimmer, and he could see his face. A harsh battle cry rose across the expression like being written in red ink. _If I lose this, you are dead meat. _Credence remembered his wand being stolen. He remembered the slander and the power trips and knew for certain that in any other competition he would lose, lose, lose.

The light in the ebony wand faded, and Finn's spell came charging in. In a second, all Credence could hear was a whooshing, and then he was on his back, breathless from the impact of landing. Finn beamed in victory. In front of Professor Ro, he had bested her Transfiguration champion.

"Yes, good job you two. Don't look at us like that, there is no prize for winning or anything." Rocky couldn't help studying curiously the boy on the floor. By all accounts he should have won...

"Everyone on your feet, we're going to divide you into pairs now," Eructo said obliviously. "Pleasant, there can be no fear or intimidation strategy this year."

"Oh, come on!"


	28. Chapter 28: Just Like a Thunderbird

Chapter 28: Just Like a Thunderbird

Marble, marble, stone. Heels cracked against them. Marble was sweet, it reflected the sound right back to her ears as a high snap. Stone ate the sound, leaving something different, deeper, more resounding. Like her father, Rocky. She had never known him to be able to just enjoy something. He always had to know _why_ he enjoyed it. She had always been his marble. Beautiful, colorful, but still just another part of the same group, or family. The group of things she walked on could all just be called hard, cold rock. Marble or stone, it drew in the falling temperatures from outside and scorned the sun just the same. Mother Isolt, that first witch could have chosen to make her castle on top of the mountain out of something that absorbed the heat a little better. Now October was creeping up on her. At least they would start lighting the fireplaces regularly soon.

Ravina click-clacked her way down the marble steps and onto the stone floor. She waved at Rafael Valadez, who gave her a friendly bob of the head. The headmistress's office was at the very back of the castle, on the first floor. The youngest Hodges could feasibly have just apparated there, but apparition wasn't some _Reparo _charm that could be tried and mastered in two minutes… or seven years. One of the reasons she wasn't apparating even though no students were around. Good thing Professor Blygull discouraged the practice anyway.

Holding onto the many forms and notices she was about to give to the headmistress would have been a waste of arms and peripheral vision. They trailed behind her in the air, a bridal train of paper. That also meant though, that when she came to a sudden halt in the Sorting Round, some of the big stacks collided with her back, making her almost lose her balance.

Daniel Dawson was standing, with hands in his pockets, in front of the Thunderbird carving near the middle of the Sorting Round. His fascination was broken when he heard the stutter step behind him. "Ravina?"

"Excuse me." The woman hurriedly tried to make her way past.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to give these things to Madam Blygull."

"How's Credence?" This question actually caused her to pause her escape.

She turned back, bridal train hovering behind her, "Why?"

He shrugged, hands digging further into the pockets of his black pants, "I just found him a while ago. Some of the other boys were picking on him. How's he holding up?"

"Some of the other boys were picking on him?" Ravina hadn't heard about this.

"Yeah; stole his wand and trapped him in a closet. He seemed pretty upset. You didn't hear about that? I thought –" He broke off, but he didn't need to. Ravina finished the sentence in her head, _I thought he would have told you_. Why hadn't he told her? Did he not want her to know that he was getting bullied? That really made her worry.

Her pointed nose had probably started twitching because Danny started to backtrack, "Never mind. It's probably not important. He probably sees me more than he sees you now anyway." He winced. "I didn't mean it like that."

She stared at him, wondering why the man who had been such a word-warrior at the trial had suddenly gotten so tongue tied. "Why are you here?" she asked, not wanting to leave it like this, "Shouldn't you be guarding?"

"I was. I am. We do more than just guard, you know. There's not much to guard around here. But I had to stop for a minute." Danny stared back in the direction he had been staring before, the middle-right statue. The thunderbird. Just a few paces behind him, the Gordian Knot design lay enticingly on the ground. Without glancing over his shoulder, he moved his feet back, back, until they were over the symbol. The thunderbird's great wings flapped as if moved by a mighty wind. Ravina listened to the stone underneath his feet.

"Why do we do this?" Danny said, not looking at her, but there was no one else in the room. "It's stupid. It's not like our House can change, right? And even if it did, it wouldn't make a difference now." His voice rose a little at the end of the sentence, as if he didn't quite believe it. _We_, Ravina noticed. Yes, it was accurate. Every staff member at Ilvermorny had done it at least once, though people seemed embarrassed to admit it. Like one who hides his gold in the bank but has to keep going back just to make sure it is still there. The man continued, "Maybe we value them too highly."

Ravina was starting to wonder why he was still talking to her. On the other hand, she _had_ started this yarn by asking a question. "Why do you say that?" - because he obviously wanted her to ask.

"The Houses. Only Ilvermorny and Hogwarts have them. Before I chased them away, the boys were saying something to Credence about not belonging in Wampus, but where would a fellow like him belong? It's like he can be two people. How do those things choose? Why do _you_ think the cat chose him?"

"Because he's a warrior," Ravina responded instantly, though it was the comment before that had caught her attention again. "Sorry, what were they saying to him?"

"I know his _Obscurus_ is a warrior," Danny continued, ignoring her question. "Too good of one, by far. Too good. And maybe that makes him a warrior too, but what if he hadn't been an Obscurial, would he still be in Wampus House? How many big choices do we have to make before we're a completely different person? Or can it just be one?"

Ravina stared at him and blinked. Danny had unconsciously wandered off of the Gordian Knot and closer to where she was standing. It felt, again, a little too much like the trial. That man, asking loud, pointed questions, ones that no one could really answer.

The guard stepped back, seeming to realize he had gone too far. Maybe he had also hinted at something on his mind that he didn't want anyone, especially not Ravina, to see yet. "Never mind. Forget it. I shouldn't have kept you, Miss Hodges. You're probably busy."

"No, it's... fine," Ravina said, watching him closely as he straightened his suit coat. "Um, if that happens again, if you find out he's being bullied, please come and tell me. I always thought I'd find out... some other way, but I guess not."

"Yeah, anything." Danny paused before hurrying out of the Sorting Round, looking at the statues again, "Maybe it's not stupid to check after all."

When he had gone, Ravina found herself not wanting to move to go to Professor Blygull's office like she was supposed to. He had been different. Daniel Dawson had been different. She wasn't sure what to make of it. The carvings stood stone still. The engraved patterns made it look like they were moving sometimes if you stared at them long enough. Ravina slowly clicked her way to the center of the great circle. So much had changed since the last time she did this. Her feet stepped upon the Gordian Knot, and she looked up, unsure why she suddenly felt so unsure.

The puckwudgie shot its arrow.

**A/N: This scene has evolved a lot since I originally wrote it – probably because when I originally wrote it I didn't have much of a plan. I wanted to break away from the main story and be like, 'also, elsewhere in the castle…'. This scene ties into a plotline that is mostly in the third book, coming soon. But for real, do you think wizards could change Houses if their personality dramatically shifted for some reason? Please let me know.**


	29. Chapter 29: It Wasn't That Funny

Chapter 29: It Wasn't That Funny

Not the night. It came about every twelve hours, sometimes waxing, sometimes waning, but it always came. The eight-year-old was nervous around it; he always had been, but especially now that things were starting to change. He couldn't say anything though. He could never say anything.

The nine-year-old dreaded the coming darkness. _That thing_ got stronger, harder to control. He drifted, like wisp of black cloud. It took his dreams. It controlled him in the night.

The ten-year-old dove from its coming. All the dark things, the memories, the nightmares, the Great Shadow, they all lived at night. So many times, he had lain in bed shaking, trying, _trying_. But he could never win. The darkness always triumphed. He couldn't fight it any more than he could keep the rain from falling.

Of course, here at Ilvermorny no one could know about any of that. They just thought he was being a coward, as usual. Everyone went to the library by themselves, why couldn't he? _Get it together, Barebone;_ _Afraid a shadow's going to try and get you, Barebone?_ Yes, that was exactly what he was afraid of, but who was going to spout that straight to Reitherman and Burke? He picked his way through the black, skyscraper shelves, wand held aloft. What was better: holding the wand forward so that it illuminated more of the path in front of you, but left you in shadow, or holding the light close, so that it formed a small, encasing bubble around you? He just needed a book on old Indian magic. Easy. Then why did it remind him so much of leaving the church on winter evenings to buy ingredients for soup? Large walls on either side, people around that he could not see but could feel like fifty shattered reflections, his own feet padding, his own light, his –

"Barebone!"

Large, cold hands gripped around his throat. Credence gasped, started, dropped his wand. The light rolled away out of reach. Finn let go, doubling over with laughter, while Credence pressed himself against the opposite shelf.

"You are _too_ easy, you know that?" Finn chortled. The sound seemed so wrong in the empty rows. "I can't believe that worked. You should see your face right now." He calmed down and studied the boy across from him, who had picked up his wand. The light reflected off of Finn's brown eyes. Their dark color made the glow seem all the more unnatural. "You never fight, you know that? I drive you crazy and you just stand there and take it. You've never even tried." He drew his wand from inside the blue robes. "C'mon, Credence, give it to me. This won't be like the dueling club. Look, I'll even make it easy for you." He dropped the wand and kicked it so that it rolled away, out of the small sphere of light.

Credence felt frozen. An opportunity like this might never come again. Finn was practically begging him to get him back. The Obscurial was armed, he had a wand… he had something so much greater.

That thought made him grow cold.

Finn was losing his patience. "What's the matter?" he challenged. "If you think Madam Dalana will notice, she's asleep. I saw her on the way in. Look, I promise not to tell any professors. I'll say I fell down some stairs or something if it's that bad."

Credence couldn't stop staring into those glowing eyes, remembering how his turned white at the inception of the Obscurus. It was so close. It was just below the surface if he would just grab it.

But what would Ravina say? What would be left of Finnley Finnington?

The boy scoffed, shaking his head. "Hopeless," Credence heard him mutter, "You're less of a Wampus than I thought."


	30. Chapter 30: Ditch DADA

Chapter 30: Ditch DADA

"Dark arts are often elusive, often secretive. You cannot fight them if you do not know what you're fighting, right? That is why today's lesson is going to be a little different."

Percy snapped his fingers in front of Credence's face. The quiet boy had been _exceptionally_ quiet today; distracted, brooding, hardly even complaining when Percy pawned off his tomatoes to him at breakfast. Even now he just blinked at the fingers blocking his vision.

"Everyone's eyes should be up here," Rocky said. "This is not something I can bring in to show you, and it is not something we can read from a book, at least not one appropriate for your age."

This perked people up. The ones most likely to fall asleep raised their heads. Even Credence tuned his ears into Rocky's mellow voice, though his eyes held onto their faraway look. The professor raised his hand toward the desk. From behind, up floated a giant frame of wood, simple. Inside was not a painting, but a photograph; black and white, indistinct, full of motion. The Obscurial nearly choked when he recognized it.

"This," Professor Hodges said, decidedly keeping his eyes away from the back-right corner where Credence was, "Is the most tragic thing that could ever happen to a witch or wizard, and each one of you should feel grateful if you do not know what this is."

The Wampus and Puckwudgie first years leaned forward to get a better look at the picture as the professor brought it forward. It was unintelligible. Some massive, black thing that didn't seem to have any shape or form. It was carving out the inside of an open house. It took furniture and threw it twenty feet in the air. It crumbled brick to dust.

Credence felt a wash of panic. Why was Mr. Hodges being so explicit? A different class, maybe, but why the one that he was in? The ringing in his ears nearly drowned out the professor's words.

"That's right, I know it's hard to see. The other teachers think this particular topic is too much for you First Years, but I need you to understand. Because this–" he pointed at the swirling mass of destructive darkness, "This could have been you."

Credence felt like he was going to be sick.

"It is an ancient parasite," continued the professor carefully, "Affecting magical children mostly before the Statute of Secrecy was put into place and we disentangled ourselves from the world of No-Majes. Some, usually No-Maj-borns, would suppress their magic if they could not harness it, in order to avoid persecution. That created this: an Obscurus. What you see is a portrayal, something physical manifested from years of hurt, and brought to life by unused magic. Now, there are some who claim that the Obscurus, and its host, the Obscurial, have not existed since the International Statute of Secrecy was put into place, at least none in civilized parts of the world like Europe and America. How they think they could possibly know something like that for sure is beyond me." He paused and licked his lips, finding it increasingly difficult not to remember the very person he was talking about was there in the room, listening.

So many battles with the Obscurus, with so much pain. How was this supposed to be just another Dark Arts lesson?

"To many of you, this might seem unimportant. You missed it. You squeaked by this one. Well, good for you." The ire in his voice surprised even him. Several students looked away or fidgeted uncomfortably. Credence's eyes were shut. "Just be aware that if you want to pass the test next month, you are going to have to spend some of that precious, magic-practicing freedom learning to understand these, and acknowledging what you escaped from."

Credence couldn't take it. He was up and out of that chair almost before Percy had a chance to turn around. "Where are you goin'?" he hissed, "You can't just ditch D.A.D.A."

"Let him go. I told you this was a hard topic." Rocky looked on after the real Obscurial; the only one in the room who hadn't escaped.

**A/N: Harry Potter never learned about Obscurials in any of the seven books. However, in Fantastic Beasts, every wizard seemed to know what they were. On the other hand, Harry's DADA education was sketchy at best, so I think Hogwarts is not a great universal example. I figured that education on these types of things would be kind of on the down-low – and for upper-level students if ever. However, obviously Rocky Hodges sees the importance of this type of education. Please review!**


	31. Chapter 31: Nobody Talks About This

Chapter 31: Nobody Talks About This

Credence felt like he was going to explode. Not from anger, perhaps that would be the second eruption. The words of the lesson coursed through his system, as impossible to stop as his own blood. _Dark Arts are often elusive... an ancient parasite... _He could feel it now. The very temperature of the lavatory he had stumbled into seemed to drop. He clutched his chest and sank down the wall. _An ancient parasite... precious, magic-practicing freedom. _ He had freedom now. Freedom to use magic and go to school and have a friend. Freedom to get bullied by teachers and his House while a monster spent every last second weakening him so it could take control or kill him in the attempt. He knew that was what it was doing. The ideas, the fantasies, the things that came up in his dreams of people cowering in terror. _Lies_. They wouldn't give him freedom. They would just lock him further away.

He wasn't alone anymore. Why did he still feel that way? Like back in a time where the monster inside him was the only presence he could count on to be there.

The Obscurial drew up his knees and sunk down in his robes, shivering in the square meter of cold.

"What did you expect to happen?" Ravina's voice sounded shrill even to her own ears.

"It had to be done, Ravina, like taking O.W.L. exams," Rocky said calmly. He'd had an hour or so to regain his usual sangfroid. The picture taken from that restricted book his daughter had found ages ago, now blown up seven times its original size and framed, had a cord tied to the upper two corners. He didn't watch her as he hung it on a nail in his office.

"It _didn't_ have to be done," she stubbornly stated. "At least not now, not right away. Look what you did to him! I don't think anyone's seen him since."

"There is more to this situation," the man responded, equally as stubbornly, "than one sensitive boy's emotions. Do you think I would have ever gone into it if I had been too concerned about how he or I or anyone else feels about the subject? The reason he has had so much trouble with the wizards and witches here is because _nobody talks about this_. We do not like the way it makes us feel, so we lock it away in the restricted section. Why? Because it is convenient. And here I thought I was supposed to educate the next generation."

Ravina pursed her lips and tried to ignore her flushed cheeks. She couldn't argue, not with her father.

But she didn't have to go along with it either.

**A/N: I know this chapter is super short. I'm pretty much just trying to add words to it here. Credence's reaction might seem extreme, but honestly it wasn't just Rocky's lesson. That was just the straw that broke the camel's back. But wait till you see what he has to deal with next! This chapter and the previous one were supposed to demonstrate Rocky's character arc, as he went from someone who was purely cognitive and just saw the Obscurus as a threat, to someone who was willing to sacrifice some childhood innocence to get across a point he felt was important – having to do with the **_**emotional**_** side of the Obscurus no less! Anyway, please review!**


	32. Ch 32: Have You Seen Credence Anywhere?

Chapter 32: Have You Seen Credence Anywhere?

Percy hated losing people. There was a certain, specific, creepy-crawly feeling that would start in the back of his mind and work its way forward as time slipped by if he couldn't find them. It was unnerving. He didn't want to be like his sister Petra, who would practically give herself a panic attack over little things like where people were. But then again, it was still important. Where was Credence? He hadn't come back for History of Magic, and had therefore missed out on the legendary duel reenactment of 1342. This was the fellow who studied on Saturday afternoons, he never just _skipped class_.

Distractedly, Percy wound his way through the halls. Some Thunderbirds had already grabbed some grapefruit salad from the dining hall and were headed outside. A line of Horned Serpents was coming from Transfiguration looking grouchy, but relieved. Banter and joshing bounced back and forth. Where were some Wampuses when he needed them?

Straight ahead, Percy caught sight of Liviana Carga's characteristic pigtails bouncing in the direction of the smell of steak. He called out to her, but got jostled behind some big fellows crossing the hall. Mother Isolt, he wished he was taller. The Hispanic First Year stopped when she heard her name and waited for him to get through. "Whatcha doing, Percy?"

"Have you seen Credence anywhere?" he asked, worming his way through the last of the obstacles none-too-gracefully.

"No." She leaned in like they were discussing some secret, "That was weird though in D.A.D.A., wasn't it?"

"I'll say. I mean, the lesson was wacky, but I don't know what made him go all upset. Things have been weird today."

"I know. I thought Professor Hodges was going to cry." The girl glanced down the hall and restlessly bounced on her heels. "I have to get my food so I can meet the fellas in the library. Have you checked the bathroom yet?"

"Have I what now?"

She shrugged, "It's where girls go when they're upset."

"He ain't a girl!" Percy objected, growing a little red.

"Hey, we're not aliens, you know. It's not _that_ much of a stretch. I'm just trying to help you out, here," Liviana huffed. "But how would I expect you to understand? You're a _boy_."

She flounced off toward the dining hall. Percy wanted to call something after her, but she had disappeared behind some Third Years before he could come up with anything worthwhile. Oh well. It wasn't like her advice had been _that_ bad. He waited till she was definitely out of sight, then dashed down the right, side hallway, away from the crowd.

**A/N: This was also one of the earliest scenes that I came up with for this plot, oddly enough. Originally, it was with Rubia Robēti, the Wampus girl's prefect, until I decided she was boring and I liked Liviana better. Fun fact, I never intended for Liviana to be a character, she just sort of **_**became**_** that way when I was writing the first draft, but now I'm really glad. Please review!**


	33. Chapter 33: I'm Not Brave

Chapter 33: I'm Not Brave

Sure enough, as Percy ground to a stop in the boy's levorotary, there was Credence. He looked like he had just scrambled to his feet when he heard someone coming. It hardly seemed to help that that someone was Percy.

"There you are. What in Merlin's name are you doin' here? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Credence said, looking at the floor, "I'm fine."

"My foot you're fine. You ran out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. What's the deal with that? You've been actin' funny ever since last night."

Last night. The library. "It's Finn," Credence capitulated, only half lying. "You know, he always says I'm not brave enough to be a Wampus. I don't belong with you guys." He pushed past his friend into the nearly-empty hall. "He's right."

"No, he's not." Percy followed him, "Everyone's 'fraid of somethin'."

"Not everything!" Credence could feel the buildup begin to rise again; that great lump he'd spent the morning trying to shove down. "I'm not like the rest of you. I can't even play chess. You and Finn and everyone – you're brave. You're warriors. I can't fight anymore!"

"I'm not brave."

Credence didn't hear, "I wish I could just tell them to put me somewhere else. You don't know what it's like, to be with you guys all the time. You're all so different, and -"

"Credence, would you stop talkin' for one minute?" Percy shouted.

There was quiet. In the silence, Percy realized: "I can't believe _I _just said that to _you_."

"What is it?" Credence asked.

The wavy-haired, smiley Wampus suddenly got very serious, more serious than his friend had ever seen him. "You wanna know why I came late with Sam on the first day? Do you?"

"You teleported your trunk –" Credence began.

"Wrong! Well, that was kinda part of it. I came here on a broom because my Pa was killed by an acromantula."

Credence couldn't think of a way to respond. Yes, he knew that Mr. Boyd was dead, but Percy had made it sound like that was a forever ago.

"I can't stand magical creatures," Percy said with passion. "You know. It started…. My Pa took me and Sam on a hunting trip four years ago; father-son time, and all that junk. We was just lookin' for rabbits or foxes or somethin'. An acromantula attacked us.

"Since then I couldn't stand 'em. I can't get near 'em, can't look at 'em. And then I saw those winged demon-ponies that pull the carriages –"

"Wait," Credence objected, "But nothing pulls the carriages."

"You think I would make something like that up?" Percy asked, still with that unnatural, serious look in his eye, "But most people say that. My sisters thought I was crazy until Sam said somethin'. Only folks who have seen death can see 'em. They're called Thestrals.

"The day we had to leave, two came to our door with the carriage, and I…I freaked out. I wouldn't go out there. Next thing I know, I touch my trunk and it just disappears. We had to look all over New York, had to keep hidden too. Sam wouldn't talk to me none the whole way."

He stared down at his shoes, for the first time looking something like Credence usually did. "So now you know – well, more, I guess. I'm not brave either. Guess we can just be cowards in Wampus together, huh?"

Credence couldn't think of anything to say. What could be said to that? Nodding was safe.

They started walking, following the short route to the dining hall. The air seemed... brighter. The dust sparkled like flecks of light. The feeling, the sense of being alone, had suddenly disappeared, like they had breathed it out while talking. Credence hardly remembered crying just a few minutes ago. But there was a hole in the middle. There was still the Obscurus. Now that was something Percy could never empathize with.

Halfway down the hall, Percy abruptly halted his tracks. "Burke, he's afraid of flowers. He's a Wampus."

Credence stopped too and waited.

His friend swiveled toward him on his heels, eyes glowing with something. "I bet we're not the only ones. It was me that said it, didn't I? Everyone's afraid of somethin'." He licked his lips, the embarrassed expression quickly capitulating to familiar mischief once again. "There's gotta be some goods we can get on Finn. We find out what he's afraid of, no way he could bother you no more, and I'd have something real to blackmail him with." He gazed imploringly at Credence, who gazed back, not sure if his friend was a mastermind or a martyr.

"C'mon." Percy spit down on his palm and held it out, "You with me, Barebone?"

Credence stared. He was suddenly struck with the premonition that if he shook that hand, he would be getting himself into something way over his head.

He shook it anyway.

**A/N: This was actually the first scene I ever wrote for this book, or this entire series. Crazy, right? It was very different back then - I hadn't come up with the whole thing about Percy's dad yet - but I'm very happy with how it's evolved. This is the last scene in the first part. The first part is definitely the longest, and we haven't even gotten into the good stuff yet! Please review!**


	34. Chapter 34: Steal His Book Bag

Part 2:

War Beyond Pranks

Chapter 34: Steal His Book Bag

"These things, important things," Percy said, shoving some grapefruit salad into his face and chewing sagely, "Are best to be done without wasting time. You want my pimentos? Steal his book bag."

"What?" the Obscurial objected.

"Hey, they ain't any more gross than my tomatoes this morning, and I thought you just didn't like chicken."

"No. Finn." Credence looked around to see if anyone was near enough to eavesdrop. Fortunately, the table that they always chose was pretty removed from most everything. "How would stealing his book bag help us find out what he's afraid of?"

Percy leaned in conspiratorially, "It ain't about that yet, see. We wanna set him on edge first, make him realize that he's not as high and mighty as he thinks he is. Besides, I need time to come up with somethin' real good. So, we start with stealin' his book bag. Hm, maybe we should write _Beware _in his Standard Book of Spells and make it look like blood."

"I don't even know the Summoning Charm," Credence said nervously.

"But you could learn. I bet you mater it in two shakes. Can't be that hard for someone like you. Isn't it like ac-me-a… ac-ne-o..."

"_Accio," _Credence read out of his own spell book. Percy's blarney was starting to get to him. "And then you have to say what you want to summon."

"See? Easy." Percy chewed on his grapefruit and gazed greedily at Finn's table. The Obscurial hesitated one last second, then got out his wand.

Ten minutes later, Credence had managed to draw Percy's plate towards his own with reasonable success. He was now focused on the book bag, gently repeating the words over, and over, and over again. Percy checked the six-foot-diameter clock on top of the doors about once a minute. The room was clearing out. Most students didn't spend the second half of dinner actually in the dining hall, but used it to socialize or finish up on homework for their fourth class. Finn's gang tended to linger, but there was only so much that could be talked about at an hour-long meal period that happened three times a day. Besides, less people meant it would be more likely for a dining hall chaperone to spot the suspiciously active wand.

"I did something," Credence suddenly whispered. Percy's head whipped around. He could see that the book bag, which had just been leaning against Finn's left chair leg, had now skittered across a few feet to where a group of Puckwudgie Third Years were chatting.

"Perfect. Just keep goin'. He ain't noticed yet."

Credence took a deep breath and focused hard on the object, "_Accio –"_

"What do you think you're practicing?" A familiar voice made them both jump and spin around. The white-haired professor's eyes rested on the ebony, carved wand which had dropped from Credence's hand at the sound. The stare wasn't quite accusing... yet. "You know, the dining hall is generally for eating, believe it or not. Magic, I have found, is less destructive when it does not happen near a plethora of breakable objects."

"Yeah, professor. Didn't think about that, did we, Credence? C'mon." Both of them hurriedly got their plates together and made to leave. The Obscurial avoided Rocky's eyes at all costs. That man knew too much.

"What was that spell you were doing?" the professor asked as they made to escape past him.

The two boys glanced at each other. With Credence's genius, an innocent use of the Summoning Charm might be believed… maybe.

"Transfiguration," the small boy whispered, keeping his eyes down, "I was trying to turn his fork into a knife."

"Yeah. Hey," Percy said, changing the subject, "That lesson was kind of out there, wasn't it Professor Hodges? I mean, when are any of us going to meet an Obscurius... thing? It kinda freaked some of us out."

Credence realized with a start that Percy was saying this for _his_ benefit. He dared not look up at them.

Professor Hodges' face darkened, his calm exterior fracturing momentarily, "You can't know that, Boyd." In spite of himself, his eyes drifted to Credence, who was nudging some crumbs around with his toe. "You just never know."

He stalked off, letting each boy exhale the breath they'd been holding.

"Where's my – what's it doing over there? Did someone kick it?" Finn's voice rose from across the room as the boys were exiting. Credence actually smiled. Percy had to turn his face to the wall to hide his laughter.


	35. Chapter 35: Stop Talking for One Minute

Chapter 35: Stop Talking for One Minute

The Obscurus used to come out every time he did magic. It happened at home, which is why he hadn't done magic. Ever. It even happened at Ilvermorny. For months, he couldn't even do a simple spell without that pressure exploding out of him. Thank the stars that didn't happen anymore.

The memory of the time when the only wand he ever saw was the broken one in the NSPS banner felt far away, another life. Magic was a part of him now. Not just shoved deep down inside of him, but free and flowing, the way it was supposed to be. For once, Credence could look back and realize he'd actually overcome something. It was weird – unnatural – to think that that paranoia, that fear had simply vanished. Where had it gone?

"Watch your back, Barebone," Finn said, passing him while leaving the Doherty's class. He made a violent grabby motion, then grinned and sauntered off. Oh yeah.

Credence's mind found its way back to that thought over and over again as time moved forward. He had always been afraid. He couldn't think of an occasion when that writhing tendril of an emotion wasn't somewhere, even just pressed to the back of his mind. There had always been so much to fear: his mother, magic, the Obscurus, the constant terror of them finding out. Here, some of those layers had been mercifully shed. But then the trial had happened and they just came right back on again. There was another thing too. It was here that he had discovered that he was supposed to die. Now there was something no amount of comfort could make him forget.

Obviously, Finn's gang was still around ready to make his life miserable. That one was different though. Thanks to Percy's idea, he could actually do something about that one. If he could find the guts.

Hours passed slowly. But at the same time they seemed to run together, like blobs of wet paint.

Magical Creatures of the USA.

Potions.

Transfiguration.

"We need a new tactic," Percy said, "Need to do somethin' a little riskier. Stealin' his stuff's just gonna get him ticked. We need to make him panic a little."

Credence wanted to say that was what he had suggested all along, but decided against it. He generally did.

Dueling club.

"You are extremely talented, Credence," Professor Eructo chirped after he bested yet another Second Year in the ongoing skills tests, "It is odd that you didn't beat that Wampus, Finn, on the first day. It really seems like you should have."

Credence stayed silent.

Wednesday.

Thursday.

"I got it," Percy said. They were walking back to the common room after a Transfiguration class. For once, the eleven-year-old did not look like he had just awoken from an hour-long nap. "You know, they don't restrict the Third Year _Curses and Counter-Curses_ at the library. I found a spell that can turn things into stone. That would be great to use on Finn. Nothin' big, just his hands or his shoes or somethin', sometime when there's a lot of people around. Then we'd get to see what he's looks like when he freaks out!"

The other boy wondered how Percy would react if he told him he had a sort of power that might put Finn in an insane asylum for life. Now that would be sure to produce a freak out worth paying money for. But no way was he going to say that.

In the library, the two pretended to be splayed out, studying for their Defense Against the Dark Arts semester test that was going to be before the Christmas break. Actually, they _were_ doing that, but Credence also had an inconspicuous copy of the Third Year spell book under his long roll of parchment, and was practicing when no one else was paying attention. Percy was hunched over his own string of notes, much more crowded and random. His writing had a tendency to go downhill, and by the bottom of the paper, it was almost vertical.

"Stupid words," he grumbled. "How are we supposed to keep this stuff straight when we already have Charms and Spells to deal with? Remember here, the _Obscurus_ is that thing from the picture that Professor Hodges got all weird about, but the _Obscur-i-al_ is the wizard who it comes from. But if they can turn into the Obscurus, then what are they? An _Obscur-i-al-us?" _ He looked up at Credence abruptly. "Oh yeah. You wasn't there when he went through all the phonetics. Sorry pal, you might have a harder time at it than me."

Credence had been trying hard to transform the sample of gigglewater he had gotten from Potions into stone, but was finding it increasingly difficult. He seriously doubted that he would have a harder time remembering the difference between an Obscurus and an Obscurial than Percy, but he didn't mention this. He stayed silent. As always.

**A/N: This was basically my time lapse chapter. You'll get to see some fun action in the next one. Sorry for the delay. Please review!**


	36. Chapter 36: Turn Things into Stone

Chapter 36: Turn Things into Stone

"I haven't seen you in so long. Oh, Merlin, how are they treating you?"

Credence tried not to gasp as Ravina brought him out of a compacting hug. Her tender hands ran their fingers through his hair, which had grown out till the bowl cut was almost undetectable. He had wanted to see her, he really had. Craved it even. But those wide, brown eyes? He felt a stab of guilt. They so wanted him to succeed, to leave pain behind, to _not_ enter into a nefarious plot that involved breaking many school rules and possibly the sanity of one of his House-mates.

Months ago, he had told her things he hadn't told anyone else. What had inspired that? She had a way of saying just the right words to make you pour your soul onto her lap. He hadn't told her everything, of course. He could never tell anyone _everything,_ but there had been enough. And she hadn't told anyone. She had still loved him even after he'd tried to destroy Ilvermorny and had admitted to his Obscurus warring for her destruction. Who did that? Who was that kind and loyal? Ravina Hodges, that was who.

And that was the conclusion he had come to hours ago. Sitting alone in the Wampus dorm room, he'd realized: he didn't deserve her.

"Fine. I'm fine."

The first of the lies.

The Obscurial nibbled at a piece of fudge, one of the new sugar items he had discovered outside of his mother's soup kitchen. Ravina had gotten them from Madam Foster as the cook prepared for the Halloween meal that night. It wasn't a feast exactly, since another one was approaching in just a few weeks; Thanksgiving. Madam Foster did, however, like to use Halloween as an excuse to try the latest and greatest desert recipes that she had been saving up for some special occasion. The fudge needed to set for a few more hours, so it was still gooey, but the boy had to wonder if he had ever experienced anything with so much pure, concentrated flavor. Where had chocolate been among the Second Salemers? It was like his Ma had wanted them to forget that food could taste good. He couldn't enjoy it too much though. His mind was elsewhere.

_Yes,_ the boy reminded himself, _I _do_ want to see Ravina._ He did. Really. Did it have to be now though? This was the first Saturday he had not been tied down with something and the young woman hadn't wasted time inviting him over in the afternoon. Credence had spent the morning wondering just how much he would be able to tell her. The list was depressingly short.

"Where's that fellow you're always with? One of the Boyds, isn't he?" Ravina asked casually.

Credence inwardly sighed with relief. A question he wouldn't have to lie for. "He's in detention with Professor Tsalagi. Didn't turn in enough assignments."

"Oh. Why?"

"He..." this one he hadn't been anticipating. "He doesn't like that class."

"Oh. So it didn't have anything to do with Potions yesterday? I heard there was a ruckus."

"That. Well, no, he didn't have anything to do with that."

Percy had had everything to do with that incident. "Credence, do your stuff," he had said.

"Now? In front of everyone?"

"Yeah, this is perfect. Here, hide behind the cauldron."

"I heard someone was caught doing a spell on someone else. Who was it?" Ravina continued.

"No one. I mean, no one got caught. Professor Chán just punished the whole back table." This reply was truthful. "I don't know who did it." Untruthful.

"_Duro." _Credence had peaked his wand around the cauldron and had focused hard on the table across the room. _If only Finn would stop moving his hands!_ The jar of asphodel that had been sitting just next to the gang-leader had begun to turn gray.

"I can't do this," Credence said, bringing himself back around his cauldron to lay pleading eyes on Percy.

The other boy mirrored the gaze, "Just one more time? If it don't work, we'll call it off."

Credence braced himself, and looked around the cauldron once more. There Finn stood, laughing with Royal and two Puckwudgie girls, his hands moving up and down to mince the garlic. It was such a small point in space, like hitting a mosquito with a sling shot. Well, was he a wizard now or wasn't he? Credence could remember what Mr. Hodges had told him months ago, in the very first magic lesson he had ever had: _It's not enough just to _say _the words. You have to want to do it. You have to _use_ magic._

"_Duro,"_ he said.

Credence was almost able to feel the muscles in those chubby fingers grind to a halt and harden. Outside, the skin paled till it was a sickly gray. Not quite stone, but –

Finn let out a cry and raised his hands up to his face, "Ow! What's happening? Professor Chán!"

"What _did_ happen exactly?" Ravina asked. The Obscurial took another drink of milk, swishing it around in his mouth to buy himself time. What to tell her…

"Um…"

Professor Chán's apathetic voice hadn't changed a decibel at the realization that one of his students suddenly had gained half-stone hands. "Who did this?" He'd flicked his wand at Finn and the fingers had begun to wiggle again.

Credence's eyes glued themselves to Con Mèo, the cat sitting atop the professor's shoulder. Its too-large, black eyes were staring straight at him.

"_Meow," _it said.

The professor, an advancing boulder, drew toward the back table. No human face could remain that unchanging unless it was carved into stone. Usually, Professor Chán was so utterly dull that people like Percy had a hard time not bursting into laughter. Now, he was terrifying.

Chán looked at each of the students in turn, weighing them. Six pairs of eyes gazed innocently back into his. Four pairs of eyes actually were innocent.

"The cat thinks the spell came from this table," he said after several seconds, "And the cat is always right."

When no one volunteered to come clean, he spent the next minute giving each student another interrogation-worthy stare down. Credence had to fight every instinct in his body not to look at his hands like he normally did. If anything could look guiltier – well, let's just say he had practice hiding violent crimes.

"You all have to stay after class and clean the cauldrens," Professor Chán said, not missing the opportunity to continue staring at them as they whined in protest. "I will write a note to Professor Ro. Come to me if you have anything you want to say. Oh," He paused on his turnabout to go back to the front, "and watch them, Con Mèo."

"Funny, so it was someone at your table." Ravina had finished her fudge and sent the empty plate merrily floating its way back to the kitchen.

"Yeah, probably." Credence had failed to mention a few key details about that story. The part where he had actually been the one to say '_Duro'._ Also, something that had even caused Percy's triumph to dwindle like the disappearing chocolate on the Obscurial's plate.

"Watch them, Con Mèo."

As the cat had dug its unblinking eyes into the back table, the two boys had risked a shared look of triumph. Ten minutes less of Transfiguration? Seemed more like a reward than a punishment. And for such a risky move, it was just a relief they hadn't gotten caught. Professor Luckey's 'October is a bad omen' philosophy wasn't giving them much problem after all.

Credence knew something was wrong when his friend's playful grin had vanished. He followed Percy's eyes to see a second pair staring straight back at them. Finn's. Of course. They flicked from one boy to another and his face hardened until _it_ looked like it had been the thing to turn to stone.

"Oh boy," Percy groaned.

Credence knew if he kept getting lost in thought it would just make Ravina's questions get more probing. Lying to her was bit like a mosquito every time he did it. Funny, he'd never felt guilt over lying to his Ma, or his sister either for that matter. Right now, telling half-truths was the best he could do, but even that left a little sting.

"Mr. Hodges taught a lesson on Obscurials." He dared to look at her face, seeing what the subject did to it. Sitting alone on that bathroom floor, he couldn't help but wonder if it had been her idea. She _had_ been the one to find that picture of the Obscurus in the first place.

"I know." Ravina's voice was so cold could have had a puff of visible breath along with it. Her nose twitched. "I heard about what happened with that. I tried to tell him. He was really set on the idea though. I know he didn't mean to make you upset."

She reached over and put her hand on top of his. Credence wasn't expecting this. He closed his eyes, letting her warmth soak into his dead bones. Was this what he had meant, that part him that had actually _wanted_ to see Ravina?

"Has Daniel Dawson talked to you recently? You know, the man from the trial?" The unexpected question shattered the lull that had started to shade Credence's mind. He didn't need reminding of who Daniel Dawson was. After the summer, who could forget? Dawson was in practically every painful memory he had of the time. Not to mention that night at the beginning of the year when Finn's gang had trapped him in a closet…

That was also forbidden. He couldn't tell her about what they did to him. She would only worry. It was no good.

"I…I see him sometimes, I guess. Why?"

Ravina smiled in a slightly forced way, "No reason. Just wanted to make sure you weren't running into any trouble. All done then?"

He nodded, and she bid him goodbye, going past the line of _employees only,_ into the kitchen with his plate. Credence was eager to get out of there too. If only she would stop asking the wrong questions, he could actually _enjoy _being with her.

In the back of his mind though, he knew the truth. He could have told her what really happened. She probably wouldn't have ratted him out. But she would have been disappointed. In the end, he couldn't blame her for that. Boy, it kept coming back to this, didn't it? He couldn't avoid the truth.

He really was a coward.

**A/N: I know, this is a **_**really**_** long chapter (for me). That's probably part of the reason it took so long to edit and I had to take a couple-day-hiatus. This chapter was not easy! But I'm pretty happy with it in the end. At the beginning, when I was drafting it, I had intended to just do the whole **_**Duro**_** scene like I would any other scene, but then I thought, "That's boring," and, "We haven't seen Ravina in a while." I decided to combine the scene with one of him visiting with Ravina. This was also one of the first ideas for pranks that I came up with a **_**long**_** time ago, before I'd even really ready Harry Potter. It was originally supposed to be **_**Petrificus Totalus**_** for just the hands, until I became more acquainted with Potter Lore and realized that wasn't really a thing. Oh well. Now we can all laugh about it. Please review!**


	37. Chapter 37: An Acromantula

Chapter 37: An Acromantula

That weekend went without a hitch, and Credence hated every second of it. Neither Finn nor his allies in Wampus did one thing to make his life miserable for days. Even Percy didn't get into any serious fights, and he practically begged for it! Credence couldn't figure it out. That look of Finn's in Potions class was practically a death omen. Yet he found that he was able to study now without someone grabbing him from behind, or jump at a shadow without the gang bursting into hysterical laugher. It was unnerving. That kind of thing was _normal_. This was like Professor Ro singing Christmas carols or Professor Eructo frowning. And then there was Halloween_._ What better time to play some elaborate revenge prank on them then the night when even No-Majes thought everything was haunted? But nope. Nothing. Hardly even a tease – though Credence did get a few of the "Isn't it a little too scary for you out there, Barebone?" comments as darkness fell outside. It was so unusual that Biani Saulovich might have wanted to put it in _The Ilvermorny Insider_: TERROR GROUP MYSTERIOUSLY CUTS BACK AFTER ATTACK ON LEADER. Like the title, no matter how dramatic, would make any person care about his problems.

There was one thing that cared.

But he wouldn't think about that.

It was worse than simple inaction on Finn's part. When the Obscurial was walking into the boy's dorm on Sunday night, there everyone was. With all the noise in that room, no one would have noticed him slipping in. Finn noticed him though, and he smiled. Not a welcoming smile. More like he was saying _I know something you don't know. _Boris and Royal saw where he was looking and starting whispering together.Loner Joe, half-reading on his bed, caught sight of the drama. As Credence passed by, he shook his head like a naysayer at a wrestling match.

Professor Tsalagi went on about 'experience' so much that it made his subject feel like a blustering wind; something that was actually very common in an outdoor class. This probably had to do with the fact that, after that first interaction with the puckwudgies, there hadn't really been much in the way of creature interaction. This suited Percy just fine, but for most Wampuses, reading out of a textbook just wasn't kinetic enough. The calm, soft-spoken professor obviously wasn't too into it either. American laws were very clear though. Percy, Mr. I-came-here-on-a-broom-because-I-can't-even-stomach-thestrals, had no problem with it whatsoever. He thought it was a wonder that other countries weren't catching on. No one should have to die like his Pa had. Maybe magical creatures should be ruled out altogether, everywhere. Worldwide consensus - like the International Statute of Secrecy. Then nothing bad could happen, and children wouldn't have to spend an hour shivering in November cold every day for a pointless class. Percy had gotten very acquainted with the Magical Creatures textbook over the weekend. While most students were inside, enjoying relaxed homework and preparing for the Halloween festivities, he had been outside with Tsalagi going through old textbooks page by page, erasing notes by scribbling with his wand. It was more creature-exposure than he'd wanted in a lifetime, and the book itself wasn't even that interesting; name of beast, type, class, description, habitat, what to do if you found one (usually run), and often a picture to coincide. Unfortunately, all that flipping didn't mean that Percy got to skip class. He had checked. It was just his luck, as the Monday after Halloween, they were breaking into acromantulas.

Finn's half-gang of Wampuses and Horned Serpents sat unusually close on the large strip of frozen grass. The unwritten rule had always been that that group and Percy stayed as far away from each other as space would allow. Credence tried to follow suit; the gang, however, always seemed to be able to sniff him out easy as a shark does with blood. It wasn't his fault he was skittish. Well, it kind of was, but Percy wouldn't hold that against him.

He knew why Finn disliked his… everything so much. The big boy's poor, bruised pride. It was probably the first time anyone had ever rejected being in his little kingdom. But who would want to live there anyway? Everyone just laughed at one another. Credence never laughed at Percy. He never laughed much at all really.

The distractible boy suddenly realized that he had been staring off into space, and in doing so had had his eyes fixed directly on Finnington's left eyebrow. Finn had been staring back for some time now, a satisfied smirk at watching Percy quickly look away. Percy heard snickers coming from that part of the grass. Merlin, you couldn't do anything right around them. Anyway, something about that smile seemed out of place.

Credence saw him come back to focus and pointed to where they were on the page. Helpful, having him as a friend. At worst, he could remind you of the stuff you missed the teacher saying in class and at best he would do your homework for you if you promised to fight off Finn's gang for a little while. Percy had quickly discovered in his first few months here that magic wasn't exactly his thing.

Tsalagi walked up and down, waiting for everyone to finish the reading. Acromantulas. The magical creatures that Percy saw most in his nightmares. He tried not to look at the picture. Did wizard pictures always have to move? It was so lifelike, like it could just come crawling out of the page and -

"AH! MOTHER OF MERLIN! GET IT OFF OF ME, GET IT OFF!"

Percy Boyd was two yards away before he could even finish screaming. A great, hairy, miniature – but not that miniature – granddaddy of all spiders was hiking on spidery legs up to his face. He shook his arm, desperately trying to dislodge it, but it clung like a vampire to a neck. "Help!" he screeched.

Credence was up in a heartbeat, like the great gong booming double-quick time in Percy's chest. The small boy winced as he grabbed the mini-acromantula, pried it off of Percy, and quickly set it going the opposite direction in the grass. Some girls screamed and cleared a pathway as it crawled happily on its way.

Percy could barely hear over the blood in his own ears. The spider was black and white. He barely registered that before he had to look away lest he throw up. Instead, he looked down at his textbook. The spider picture was gone. Pieces clicked together just as his pounding heart slowed enough for him to hear above its pounding. There was laughter. Hysterical, mocking laughter, coming from a suspiciously close strip of grass – perfect for watching a spectacle. Finn twirled his wand in his hand.

"Alright you bunch of squibs," Percy growled, not really caring even if they heard him or not – they weren't _that_ close, "You gone and done it now. I tell you, this is war."

**A/N: Yes, I know that the spell for making pictures come to life in three dimensions isn't exactly something specifically referenced in the Harry Potter books. I figure it can be something that is do-able though (if you can't tell, this is another prank I made up before actually reading Harry Potter). We've seen all sorts of other things happen, like statues come to life. I picture, I imagine, would be much easier. Please review!**


	38. Chapter 38: Holing Up Finn

Chapter 38: Holing Up Finn

Credence finally got an idea worth voicing the next day when Percy was too preoccupied by seething to study for their Charms and Spells quiz, much less come up with ways to frighten Finn. The incident with the acromantula had really rattled him. In Potions the day before, he had been so distracted that his mixture, which was supposed to become flammable water, ended up eating away half of his robe sleeve like acid before he even noticed. Credence was just shocked that the gang had been able to nail Percy with something. He'd always been untouchable. Credence was the one who was supposed to be the weak link. Things seemed to have expanded since then.

He reluctantly told Percy about the time when the gang had trapped him in Mr. Clihf''s closet without a wand, how they had fired spells at him every time he moved or tried to escape. "I'll kill 'em," Percy swore, with startling severity. Then, upon hearing Credence's suggestion, conceded to, "Well, I guess holing up Finn's second as good."

The guards were patrolling near that closet, so the two boys decided to change venues. Credence levitated a note into Finn's book bag that Wednesday at supper, and, right on schedule, he appeared alone near the History of Magic classroom just as the lamps were magically turning on to counter the waning light. It didn't take much effort to trap him in the empty chamber adjacent to History of Magic. Credence and Percy remained outside the two doors for a couple hours, redoing the locking charm every time Finn tried to undo it. The Obscurial felt squirmy whenever he caught himself enjoying the angry shouts and threats coming from the inside. It seemed kind of wrong. But he suppressed that inclination. For once in his life he would get retribution – without destroying everything he could touch in the process.

Finn didn't take being trapped in a dark room as quietly as Credence had. The next morning, the two boys woke up to having their legs bound ungracefully together. After Credence had wormed his way to his wand and undone the curse – while enduring hoots of laughter from the other side of the dorm – he and Percy also discovered that their shoes had been glued to the ground with the Stickfast Hex. Percy shouted all sorts of threats at the gang, which just made them laugh harder. It seemed that while Credence and Percy had been distracted, Finn had taken the opportunity to slip a note onto the pillow of each of their beds. The boys found them on their way through the dorm to change into boots for Magical Creatures class. Percy's said, in messy cursive, _I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, I'm going to get you._

_Catch me if you can, Ding-bat__, _Percy wrote coyly on the back and snuck the note onto Finn's pillow with a skull-and-crossbones sketched underneath. Credence's note had only three words: _You're next, runt._

He was on edge during dueling club. Finn was fighting recklessly. They were practicing the Jelly-Legs Curse, which could cause the loser's legs to collapse under them like they had been turned to jelly. The wand movement was a flexuous group of waves that made it hard to aim properly at the person across from you. Credence, however, got the impression that Finn wasn't as bad at it as he was making himself out to be.

"Whoops, sorry about that," he called, smiling, when his spell 'accidentally' hit Credence again instead of the Second Year he was dueling.

The Obscurial forced himself to get up again, forced himself to not look into Finn's facetious eyes and instead stare at the ground like normal. _I could take care of him, _a small part of him said, _I could make him really afraid, so he'd never bother us again. _The Obscurus prodded the back of his mind with that thought, offering it up on a silver platter. It was nice and slimy. Credence got through the rest of the dueling club thinking about it, but he forced himself to put a barrier on his imagination. He couldn't do it, not for real. It would take a lot of hurt before he would be willing to be kicked out of Ilvermorny for Finn.

**A/N: Yes, I know, I've been absent for a while. I'm sorry. One thing led to another and I got busy and also was forced to rewrite a lot of stuff. This chapter and the next one were basically redone from scratch. The last little bit here, for example, is completely new, as well as the beginning. I felt like it was important to have at some chapters showing the progression of the prank war, because that's what it is now, if you didn't guess from the title of Part 2. Please review!**


	39. Chapter 39: Be Quiet

Chapter 39: Be Quiet

There was an invisible line in Transfiguration, one that all the students knew they must never cross. Professor Ro liked to come out from her desk from time to time and walk among the students, just to remind them all that she could. _She_ could come into _their _world. In her three years and counting of being a professor, no student had ever voluntarily come up to her desk. They could sense the invisible line just as well as she could. That was her world.

She sat at that desk one Thursday, glaring at the stack of papers from the Wampus and Thunderbird class that she would need to grade soon. It was challenging, sometimes, to teach so many different classes. Their names, faces, and even homework, could easily shuffle around until there was no sense of order. Professor Ro was a sergeant of order. To keep the classes from blending in her mind, she found it amusing to make up brutally honest titles for the different groups, such as this one: the egotistical, drop-out crowd. Credence, and maybe Finn, were the only ones in the class who showed any real promise. It had taken Ro a while to accept the brilliance of the former. Credence's magical energy seemed just itching to be used. No wonder. He was five rows in front of her now, gazing anywhere but forward, a perfectly transformed teacup already resting on his desk thirty minutes into class. It was downright annoying.

Professor Ro scratched a few red notes on Dibon Karab's review paper. Honestly, did these No-Maj children ever get taught how to write properly? It was a stupid question, as No-Majes never did anything properly.

The noise of a barely audible whisper snapped her head up, eyes scanning the room. _Percy Boyd_, of course. He seemed to be trying to show something to Credence this time, a tiny slip of paper. Talking, _and_ note passing? Forbidden; unacceptable.

The professor rose from her throne and stepped out among the rabble. Percy quickly went back to pretending to be focused on the assignment. Everyone always suddenly grew more attentive when she paced the desks. These boys hadn't noticed that she had noticed. Perfect. Credence continued to play with something in his own fingers for a second longer. Another note? He stashed it inside his robes when she drew near and focused back on his cup as if it were the only interesting thing on Earth. Ro clopped around the edges of the room and ended so she was close enough to see the dark hairs on the back of Percy's neck arch upwards. "Talking isn't allowed, Boyd. Yes, I can hear you from my desk. Five points from Wampus."

"_Ooh,"_ some of the other Wampuses from across the room snickered.

"Be quiet or I'll stuff a pillow in you!" Boyd retorted. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he?

The professor rolled her eyes. "More talking. Five extra points off."

"But-!"

"I'm going to keep taking points until you learn to control that lip of yours, Boyd. Maybe I'll start taking five off per word next time."

Percy looked like he _really_ wanted to snap back with a smart remark, but, wisely, he pressed his lips together until they turned white and stayed silent. More snickering came from around the room; the Wampuses from before and now even some Thunderbirds who had taken an interest in the drama. Laren shot them a look that had them remember that she didn't show partiality toward her own House. Mother Isolt, this class...

It had taken all of her practiced self-control to not mention the note-passing or demand the papers in front of everybody as further justice to Percy and the Obscurial. That was what she would have done a few years ago as a novice professor. Now she knew better. Despite the swiftness of the sting when she caught students red-handed, it traumatized them better when she made them sweat for a while. They would feel like her eyes were everywhere. And it was true.

As she moved past the desks of those Wampus boys, a subtle flick of the wand summoned the two scraps of paper from their hiding places and into her waiting hand.

**A/N: This idea for Ro's perspective on the prank war was split into two chapters, so there's more coming. I thought that it would be valuable to get a different perspective, and we haven't seen her in a while, and I just love writing from her POV. It would have been nice to encapsulate this into one chapter just to make the breaks nice and clean, but it was just too long and there **_**are**_** two scenes that take place in very different locations. It just made more sense to split it up. As I mentioned in the last note, I did have to completely rewrite both of these chapters. In the original Ch. 39, Credence was casting a spell on Finn to turn his cup into a book and there was no mention of the notes that Finn sent. Anyone have any opinions on which is better? Leave a review!**


	40. Chapter 40: Temerity

Chapter 40: Temerity

"You came all the way up here to give me notes written by an eleven-year-old?" Professor Blygull asked contemptuously, setting the crumpled slips back down on her desk.

Laren Ro stood her ground in defiance, "I got these from Percy Boyd and Credence during class. At first I thought that Percy was passing notes, but the handwriting is too big and round to be his. I would bet my robes that Finnley Finnington wrote them. He's the boy who cast the Knockback Jinx on Boyd the first morning."

"I am familiar." The headmistress said, glancing back down at the notes. One was longer, the other hardly more than a corner piece. Ro could just barely make out the words _I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, I'm going to get you_ upside-down on the bigger one.

"Again," Blygull spoke with the patience seeping out of her voice, "You came all the way up here, interrupting our busy schedules, to show me the petty threats that a First Year has been writing?" She gently pushed the slips of paper back in Ro's direction.

"This doesn't just involve any First Years; the Obscurial is in the middle of all this. Petty threats taken too seriously could lead to another disaster."

"It could," the headmistress agreed.

She left the words hanging in the air, as if more was supposed be attached to them. Nothing more came. Laren figured the older woman was baiting her to continue the argument. The infuriatingly condescending way she was looking at Ro certainly made it easy. "Wasn't it you who said, at the end of the trial, that if he stepped one toe out of line you could have him expelled or sent to MACUSA?"

"What I said," Professor Blygull replied, the patience in her voice now as dried up as a fossil, "Was that he would have to prove to me that he could control the Obscurus before the end of the summer. And he did. The fact that there is some trouble just lends more… _credibility_ to the wisdom of that decision. If he cannot control it during times of tribulation, then can it really be called control?

"You are not as astute as you believe yourself to be, Laren. I was informed by Dawson of this prospective rivalry months ago. I am honestly surprised it took you all this time to figure it out. What exactly do you expect me to do? Expel the three of them? Cast the Imperius Curse on them to make them behave?"

For one happy moment, Ro actually wondered if the headmistress could be persuaded into that. She got her answer when Professor Blygull leaned back and kneaded her heavily wrinkled brow. "Oh, Laren. The inside of your mind is a scary place sometimes."

Ro's head snapped up and her shields rose instantly. The old witch _was_ very powerful. "You wouldn't have –"

"Of course not! What do you take me for? It was written all over your face." With a flick of the wand, the two notes went up in flames, the fire magically not spreading to the wood of the desk. The young woman moved to object, but Blygull got there first. The headmistress was about through with Professor Ro's mouth. "I expect to not see you again in this room unless something real and disastrous has occurred. Talk to Finn if it concerns you that much. Talk to Credence if you have to, but do _not_ punish him for something that has not happened yet, and may never happen. He has not yet received more grace than I constantly give to you."

She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in clearly dismissive way. Laren felt her face grow red, but she hid it by turning and stalking towards the door. Humiliated. She felt like a child, one that had just been scolded. And she _despised _feeling like a child.

At the door, she turned around, undeterred. "You agreed with me back in June. He'll have you wrapped around his finger. You'll end up just like Ravina, and Professor Hodges."

"That's _enough_, Laren."

The young professor didn't have to shut the door. Professor Blygull slammed it for her.

**A/N: Laren Ro scene 2! This might have been something of a response from me to the relationship between Professor Dumbledore and Snape (Blygull and Ro are basically my equivalents). I know, I know, I know why Dumbledore trusts Snape completely and all that fun stuff, but I always feel like it's a little weird when there's a completely dislikable character to the protagonist but everyone else adores them. This goes for Draco Malfoy and Finn too (yes, yes, I understand Lucius is intimidating and that's why they get away with so much stuff). So here I really wanted to display that there is a very dislikeable character to the hero, the other kids…and the adults too. The adults can see sense. I understand why J.K. Rowling wrote her characters the way she did. I guess this was just my way of breaking a trope. Please review!**


	41. Chapter 41: Get Him Alone

Chapter 41: Get Him Alone

The real wave broke on Wednesday. Credence had been studying the notes that he had taken for the Defense Against the Dark Arts test at the end of November. Despite the torches that had been lit because of the dimness inside the dorm room, the air still felt chilly. Credence had taken the liberty to pull the sleeves down on his light blue robes so that they would form make-shift gloves over his hands. He was just reading after all, not using his wand.

All of a sudden, he realized he was the only person in the room. Strange; usually at least Loner Joe was skulking around there somewhere, trying to stay away from any big groups. The Obscurial got up, notes in hand, to go and see if studying by the fire would be warmer, maybe a bit less lonely too. The door gave him the second clue - the fact that it wouldn't open. The smug voice behind him was the final decider: "You're next, runt."

Credence spun and grasped for his wand – lying out of reach on the bed.

"_Flipendo!" _Finn shouted, pinning his victim to the door. Paper scattered across the ground. _"Immobulus," _he added for good measure. Credence felt his muscles tighten as he squirmed. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything.

"_Locomotor Mortis."_ Finn raised his wand slowly and Credence followed like a puppet. The young wizard flung his arm to the side. Credence hit the right wall with a crack. _Do something. Do something. _There was nothing he could do. He felt the old instincts taking over, from a life before Ilvermorny. It would be over if he just stood there and took it.

"Come on, _fight me!"_ Finn shouted in a voice that had to be audible from outside in the common room. He threw his arm to the other side and Credence rocketed to the opposite wall. His whole body screamed at him. Why didn't anybody come? The old pressure began to build up, rising from his chest, up through his throat, and spilling into his eyes. Finn pulled his limp body back, so that he dangled in front of him. The Obscurial shut his lids so the other boy couldn't see the ghostly whiteness. If he moved, if he breathed, if he spoke, that thing would come pouring out of the opening. He knew it.

Finn grabbed the Gordian Knot pin around his neck and breathed into Credence's face, "You and Boyd had better stop messing with me." He let go of both pin and spell, an arrogant grin taking his expression, "I'd win anyway."

He stepped over the defeated Obscurial, tapped the doorknob with a click, and left. Credence opened his eyes to watch him go, the dim distortion still covering his vision like a sheen. He couldn't let Finn get him kicked out of Ilvermorny. It wasn't worth it.

Mother Isolt though, it felt worth it.

**A/N: Well, I fear that this chapter has pushed Finn into 'villain' category. If anyone is doubtful that a First Year would be able to perform such spells as Finn uses here… you're probably right. But I call it OK because Finn is a magical prodigy. And when you think about it, it probably took him this long to pull the prank because he was practicing the spells (poor Boris and Royal…). If you have thoughts, please review!**


	42. Chapter 42: I Ain't Goin' Nowhere

Chapter 42: I Ain't Goin' Nowhere

"_You just let him do that to you?"_ Percy's New York slang got thicker when he was worked up. "You shoulda karate-chopped that dittany, rinky-dink, half-log of his and told him to beat it or he'd face the full force of your prodigy-wizard power! Magic's duck soup for you, you coulda done somethin'."

"He used the freezing charm," Credence said miserably, not wanting to think about what had almost happened. Percy didn't know what had almost happened.

Credence slumped on the steps of the Ilvermorny entrance while Percy paced the stone walkway in front of him. No one was around; hardly anyone came outside these days since the snow had started up, but wasn't deep enough yet to build forts or do anything fun like that. Percy had pulled the battered boy out here for just that reason when Credence had refused to even let Ms. Weasley see him in this state. Now, he scooped up a handful of early snow up, patting it into what was supposed to be an ice ball. He handed it to his friend, "Speakin' of freezin'."

Credence held the coldness to some black and blue spots on is arms. "He won't let me live while we do this."

"You ain't havin' second thoughts now, are you? after _this?"_

"No. It's just..." Credence wished he could put how he felt into words. The dark, violent side of him wanted to see Finn pay - with full, aching experience - for every bruise or pounding heart he had ever caused the Obscurial. But then there was the physical side of him that was at this moment moaning, imploring him not to do anything to risk feeling that way again; like he was a paper bag, out of control and being tossed and pummeled by the wind. It reminded him of how the Obscurus had used to feel, when it was out wreaking destruction and he was dragged behind like a slave. He never wanted to feel like that again. "Never mind. I just wish we could find something faster."

"Don't we all, pal." Percy suddenly brightened, as if the glum mood that had settled over them could just be shrugged off like a coat. "Listen, I figure we must be on to somethin', 'else he wouldn't have gotten spooked enough to toss you 'round like a ragdoll. He's afraid we'll find somethin'. Here, lemme see that list."

Credence paused before he dug out the paper. He knew what was coming next. It always started this way with Percy. "You can't try anything big. He'll just do to you what he did to me."

"Eh, forget about it. I got Sam as an older brother, remember?" Percy danced along the horizontal road, his hands, which had touched the snow, rubbing together vigorously. "You don't want to head into supper yet, do yous?"

"Not really." Credence didn't feel mentally prepared to see Finn again, even if it meant he could go back inside the fire-warmed walls; even though he was hungry and his fingers were going numb. Numb wasn't necessarily a bad thing when it hurt to breathe. "You can go though."

"I ain't goin' nowhere till I see that list," Percy said obstinately, and Credence realized he had forgotten about it. He dug the crumpled paper out of his inner pocket and read off the next few items they had brainstormed as possible fears for Finn: "There's still fire, water, the dark…"

"Fire," the other boy repeated. He clapped Credence on the shoulder – right where his body had slammed against the walls multiple times. The boy winced. "Take care of yourself." Percy said, settling down against the great, stone statue of Isolt Sayre, "I gotta stew on this."

They stayed there, sitting in the shadow of two stone giants on the outside of Ilvermorny, staring at the sparkling snow. It was nice; a warm feeling despite their frozen skin. They _were_ planning someone else's demise, but at least Credence wasn't doing it… alone. He had never dared to hope he would have someone else to help him with things like this. The closest he ever got was the Obscurus, which was _constantly_ planning other people's demise. It had gotten justice for him when no one else would. Brutal justice. Well, now maybe he wouldn't need that anymore.

**A/N: There's a lot of early-1900s slang in the first paragraph, so hopefully you understood it. I took out the sentence where I mentioned it, but snow is coming early to Mt. Greylock! (I took some liberty because it was a mountain). My research showed me that November is the earliest Massachusetts would really get for snow, with more normal times being December-January-ish. If anyone lives on the East Coast and cares to weigh in, please review!**


	43. Chapter 43: Girls

Chapter 43: Girls

That Thursday, the Wampus First Years entered History of Magic from the Defense Against the Dark Arts room across the hall to find all the chairs and tables cleared out. This wasn't uncommon for the Dohertys to do; it meant they would be directing one of their famous reenactments. That usually caused a lot of excitement and chatter. Today, most of the Wampuses' minds were swimming in other waters.

Everyone in the gang knew what had happened to Credence Barebone on Wednesday night. Finn had unloaded to all of them at supper. "I don't _believe_ him!" he had ranted. "He didn't even _try_ and stop me." Anyway, it explained why Credence had been slinking around in that hangdog posture - robe sleeves ever-covering his arms - all night and all morning. Kir and Dibon, the generally inseparable Karab twins, hadn't breached a word on the subject since Finn had told them about it. It was like an uncomfortably large troll smelling up a room. It probably would have remained that way if they had been left to decide.

Liviana Carga, a Hispanic girl with pigtails and the only other one from their arrival carriage who had also made it into Wampus, couldn't let it go so easily. She wasn't the type to keep her opinions to herself. While everyone else was loitering about, lining the edges of the classroom like stitching around a patch, she strode up to Kir, dragging a very unwilling Dibon along by the arm. "You two are being simps," she said, depositing him next to his brother.

Dibon rubbed his elbow, "Whoa. Easy."

"You're still defending Finn, even though he used that _locomotor _charm on Credence last night," she continued.

Kir fumbled and nearly dropped his notecards.

"We're not defending him," Dibon said.

"Oh yeah? You're still hanging out with them. You used to play with us all the time, now we never see you because you're always with Finn's gang. And you were _still _with them this morning."

"All right, so what if we are?" Kir retorted, starting to get defensive, "You don't know what it's like for us. If we didn't stick with Finn's gang, we'd be out with them." He jerked his thumb in the direction of Percy and Credence. "We're No-Maj-born. Even you're a pure-blood, Liviana. You probably already knew people before you even got here. We have to take what we can get when we can get it. So _don't_ ruin this for us."

"For _you?" _Liviana looked ready to blow a gasket, "What about me? What about Eana and Eileen? Are we just nothing to you guys now that you have a chance to be popular?"

"He didn't mean that," Dibon quickly stepped it, "It's just, you're, well..."

He didn't bother finishing. The Hispanic witch had already turned around and stormed back to her aforementioned friends.

The two twins looked at each other, not sure what to make of things. _"Girls,"_ they both said together.

**A/N: So, while Credence, Percy, and Finn's gang are the main focus of the story, I wanted to make it clear that other people exist in this school. J.K. Rowling does a great job at this. I learn a lot from her. There are a lot of characters, friendships, and cliques that exist in the background of Ilvermorny that I wanted to explore in greater detail as a sort of subplot. This is the first scene depicting that. I know Dibon and Kir were introduced earlier. Liviana Carga was too, though not as blatantly. Her name I found in the Spanish translation of the Bible. It translates to 'light burden', and was too pretty not to use for something. I hadn't ever planned on her character being anything more than someone in the background, but then she just sort of happened. Now I love her. Please review!**


	44. Chapter 44: Found It

Chapter 44: Found It

There was enough hubbub going on in History of Magic to make an organized class impossible. Percy and Credence had been huddled out of the way, throwing nervous glances over at where Finn and Boris and Royal were clumped, when they got distracted by some other Wampus First Years yelling at each other. Percy wasn't really interested in what the argument was about, but it was fun to see their faces growing red. It reminded him of his brother when they had fights. "Watch out, the donnybrook leader's comin' our way," he whispered as Liviana's dramatic exit took her right past them.

"Hang in there, fellas," she whispered on her way past, then skittered away.

Percy looked on after her like she had just offered him a hard-boiled potato. _"Girls."_

Credence had looked down to avoid eye contact and realized that the hand holding his wand was trembling so that the stick was reminiscent of a woodpecker's beak. "I wish this was over."

"You won't regret it, trust me. It's repayment." Percy spoke confidently, but he was at least as nervous as Credence. He jogged in place to work off the energy.

As the faraway school bell tolled, the Doherty professors hopped in. They liked to make their entrances dramatic.

"Witches and warlocks, Wampuses and Thunderbirds," Professor Humi squeaked, drawing all their attention as the torches in the room went out, requiring their eyes to adjust the dimness. "Today is a very special day. Today we have –"

"Our golden reenactment!" his wife said. She had moved to the other side of the room. "The Salem Witch Trials!"

Everyone groaned. The reenactments were usually fun, or at the very least entertaining. But it had been the hope of more than a few of them that maybe _this_ particular chapter in their textbook would be skipped over having to be analyzed in gory detail. The very word 'Salem' sent a feeling like ice cubes running down Credence's spine.

"Be back in a flash. Stagin' some entertainment, all that jazz," Percy whispered, and the next second was gone. The first stage of their risky prank was in motion. No going back now.

"Who wants to die horrible, gruesome deaths?" Professor Humi was saying, "Grimm, good girl. No one else? Don't give me those faces, it's not that hard. Watch this." He raised his tiny arms and began to shake. Not tremble, like from cold, but to convulse as if a giant was wringing him by the shoulders. His eyes rolled back into his head.

"Humi!" Professor Mari shrieked, and ran to her husband just in time as he crumpled to the ground. There were a few residual jerks, and then he was still. The student body gaped in shock. These professors liked to be dramatic, but this was a little lifelike, even for them.

"Is he...?" one girl asked.

Professor Humi popped up like a frog. "Nope!" More than a few children screamed. The two Dohertys took hands and bowed, then bowed to each other, grins covering their faces like they hadn't been sitting at death's door just a few seconds ago.

"Now, who wants to volunteer?" Professor Mari asked.

"I got the you-know-what in his stuff no problem," Percy's voice said next to Credence's ear. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin. "Relax, will yous? Boy, the two of them is good at causin' a distraction. No one even noticed I was there."

"That's good." Credence's head was trying to catch up from watching what had just happened to remembering what they were supposed to be doing. That was right. Their mission; the next phase.

"Hide behind me," Percy said, then louder: "Can I be someone with a pitchfork, Professor?"

It was Credence's turn to advance the plan. He took a deep breath to still his fingers – it would be really bad to mess up the aim on this one – and took out his wand.

"Everyone should be listening with their full attention," Professor Mari was saying, "Finn, you're Albertus Grey…"

He could just barely see the little rope hanging out of Finn's book bag. Percy had done the job well. All Credence needed to do was to say one word. He narrowed his gaze, felt the soreness still in his arms from that pummeling a few days ago, felt his core heat up like a living flame at the sight of that oblivious boy, and whispered, _"Incendio."_

An orange light fluttered around his wand, but fortunately no one was looking there. A sharp sound made everyone's heads turn to the front of the crowd as something shot up from Finn's book bag. It exploded not a foot from him, beautiful light and sparks flying out dangerously in all directions. A few touched some robes and made them smolder. Finn's got hit in several places and the fabric shot up into flames. The boy screamed along with everyone else and his eyes grew wild. The blackened firework fizzled around a little before landing, tiny flames still alight on it, in the center of the area where people had cleared. "I knew that wasn't a waste of space," Percy's barely contained voice squealed.

"Quick! Stop! Fire! Murder!" the Dohertys screamed, running about on their short legs, trying to calm students down and in the process making the panic worse.

Finn's face had turned the color of milk. He was frantically trying to undo the Gordian Knot pin while his robes were slowly being burned to ash. Boris Burke soon came to his rescue. As soon as the clasp was undone, Finn unhinged himself from the robe like Houdini throwing off chains in an underwater death trap. He slung it on top of the smoldering firework with a little yelp. That was the wrong thing to do. The two burning objects conjoined and popped with new and bigger flames, the result looking like an impromptu campfire. It was a good thing the floor was made of stone. Everyone backed away, no one wanting to be the one to deal with it. The professors had by now collected themselves enough to where they were able to get back into their roles again.

"This works, doesn't it, snookums?" Professor Mari shouted.

"It will do," Humi answered, a little out of breath. "Now Finn, you're Albertus Gray about to be burned at the stake. What did he do, do you remember?"

Finn, robe-less, was still chalk-colored and breathing in and out at a remarkable speed – not a good thing when the room was filling with smoke. "Wh-what?"

"He _put out the fire!"_ the male professor screeched, dancing on his toes. "Before everybody died! You're Albertus, Mr. Finnington."

Finn drew out his wand. Even from a distance, Credence could see his hand shaking. _"A-aquamenti."_ The voice was high. A sorry sputter of drips fell from his wand, not even reaching the fire. Percy gave Credence a nudge and raised his eyebrow. _"Aquamenti," _Finn said louder. The trickle grew to a stream till the whole of his burned uniform was steaming in its own personal rain shower.

Percy turned to Credence, eyes almost as wide as his grin. "We found it," he said in the quietest of whispers.

"Well done," the two professors said together. Professor Mari waved her arms and the smoke in the room gathered up into a cloud and disappeared. Half-elves could do things like that. How come they hadn't just put out the fire themselves?

"Mr. Reitherman, Mr. Burke, Mr. Howard –"

"You are the wizards about to be burned after Gray. Now, after the fire was put out, what happened?"

"A rebellion of course!"

That's right. They were Professor Mari and Professor Humi.

The female teacher stopped directing before the reenactment could get too underway and stared out among the crowd. "Oh, and ten points from both Wampus and Thunderbird, since we don't know which one of you did it. Alright, on with the play!"

**A/N: This chapter was originally very different. It took place in Astronomy class, with Professor Luckey teaching. He is a very boring character, not like the Doherty professors. Doing it in this class was a huge improvement. It also makes some aspects more believable, such as how Percy could stage a firework in Finn's bag without drawing attention. Please review!**


	45. Chapter 45: Repayment

Chapter 45: Repayment

Finn was awake that night; eyes wide, lips tight, mind never farther than a couple of bunks away. Those slimy squibs. How had they known? He could ignore them, he could insult them, he could threaten them, he could curse them, but it just seemed to give them more energy. Since the first day, Percy had set out to infuriate and embarrass him. And Credence, well, he was infuriating too; infuriatingly passive. Never fighting when the opportunity came up, though he must have been doing most of the behind the scenes work for Percy. He would hide behind the louder one, but never had the courage to actually face Finn head-on. Not like a Wampus at all. And now those social-rejects had something on him. They had seen it. He had caught those gleeful looks on those faces. So what if he was nervous around fire? Percy could barely function in Magical Creatures of the USA and Credence was just afraid of everything. This shouldn't matter.

But it did.

Finn needed something new, something good. Sure, he was rather proud of the acromantula photograph trick that had shaken up Boyd pretty good. Beating Credence around the dormitory was mostly just to see what he would do, and hadn't been all that satisfying. This firework prank must be Barebone's idea of retaliation; a sissy way to fight. If Credence and Percy wanted to start an actual war, then they had started it with cookies and milk. When Finn wanted to compete in something, he went at it _hard_, with tough, chewy meat. Those "Wampuses" wouldn't last a day if he actually tried to take them down. The incident with Credence yesterday was just the warmup. All he needed was something really good. Something new and different. Pranks were too easy to recover from. He needed something that would permanently bruise their reputations.

Finn stared upward at the curving stairs leading to the older students' world. First through Third Years weren't technically allowed up there, though Fourth-through-Ninth-ers could come down whenever they wanted, just never did. Like that was fair. Well, First Years also weren't supposed to use their wands outside of school or preform spells on Housemates, yet here Finn was. He started climbing.

Biani Saulovich, it turned out, wasn't even on the second floor, but holed away in a particularly nerdy part of the older students' half of the library. She was the one who usually manned – or girled – the stand downstairs for _The Ilvermorny Imager _every Monday. Right now, she was punching in the buttons of her official, school-supplied typewriter.

Finn ducked past the librarian, Madam Dalana. She was asleep, as always. Biani nearly broke her spectacles by standing up so fast they fell to the ground when she saw him standing there. "I've got galleons," he said, holding out a couple of glinting, gold circles.

"I really shouldn't be doing this," the Fourth Year witch whispered, following him into a cramped area piled to the roof with paper, parchment, and photographs; the archive for the _Imager_. Three hundred years of news was collecting moths in this room. Yet another place Finn wasn't supposed to be.

"The galleons, the galleons," he reminded her. He walked backward so he could see her timid, bespectacled face. "You had to promise to work for the _Imager_ and get perfect grades so you could be here, right? That's why you always get the lowest jobs, like bringing the paper to us. You have to do whatever they say because they pay for your robe and books."

Her already pale face paled even more so, "How did you –"

"I know a little about everybody. It's a hobby." Finn spun back around and stopped before a great pile of old school newspaper, which smelled like nothing but moths had touched it in decades. Actually, the whole room was becoming a forgotten cave of must. Moths and mites and must. "Can we even find anything in this joint?"

The strawberry blonde twisted her wand nervously, "I can."

"Then get me anything that has to do with Percival Boyd or Credence Barebone or anyone associated with them, like family."

Biani closed her eyes, raised her arms like a conductor, and muttered some words. The whole of the great _Imager_ room rumbled as hundreds of leaves of paper rose into the air, kicking up a suffocating amount of dust. They shuffled around like a deck of cards, undulated, undid, reformed, and settled back to where they had come from. Finn looked down as several of the papers had landed at his feet, "Nice."

"We really shouldn't be doing this. I could get expelled," Biani worried, but Finn wasn't listening.

"What's this?" He brushed off a few identical single-sheets of the _Imager_ and picked up one that was thicker and less yellowed. The top of the paper read _The New York Ghost_ and was dated July 12, 1915. Just a few months before.

Finn was eerily still for so long that Biani chanced to creep up behind him. His breathing was heavy. The movement seemed to snap him out of some trance give to him by the page. He held up the _New York Ghost, _"You have to print this."

**A/N: I know this chapter didn't provide a lot of explanations for Finn's actions. If you need it laid out cut and dry, here it is: Finn was mad about the firework prank, he wanted to see if either of them or their families had ever had anything super embarrassing happen to them that got put in the school newspaper, so he went upstairs to find the girl who usually gave them the paper, she was actually downstairs in the library (which has half for the younger kids and half for the older kids), he bribed her to get him into the achieve room and find stuff on Percy and Credence, and I bet you can guess the rest. The next chapter is where things really get juicy, so stay tuned, and please review!**


	46. Chapter 46: An Obscurial

Chapter 46: An Obscurial

"I'm gettin' the creeps," Percy commented as they made their way to the dining hall. They were early for once today so as to get in a full hour of planning before Charms and Spells. Was it just Percy, or was everyone giving them a wide berth as soon as they saw them? The very air smelled different too; tense, like a storm.

"Something's in the newspaper." Credence pointed to one in the hand of a boy who started down their corridor, saw them, and turned another way. "See, they all have one."

Percy's eyes blossomed, "Points!" He took off round the winding hallway like there was a great slice of pie waiting for him on the other end. Credence rushed to keep up. The two ground to a halt, one after the other, in front of Biani's stand that had four large stacks of _The Ilvermorny Imager_ ready to give away. As soon as the girl saw them, her spectacled eyes lowered to the tip of her robe.

"Alright, gimme the goods. Who got fifty points taken?" Percy greedily snatched one of the papers and scanned, "Hey, Credence, look, you're on –" his voice broke off.

Credence got to the table a few seconds later than Percy. He grabbed a new leaf of paper – then almost dropped it.

It was him, a picture of him from the trial. Adjacent to it was a spinning, angry, desperate mass, reaching like it had been flying past the camera at the moment the shot was taken. Credence had never looked at himself in that form, never seen a picture, but a question of what or who it was never even formed in his mind. The headline, which looked like it had been taken from the very article that had alerted MACUSA to his presence at Ilvermorny, read: _THE OBSCURUS INCURSION: DARK THINGS ILVERMORNY KEEPS BEHIND ITS DOORS. _Above it, on the _Imager_ headline there were the words, _OBSCURIAL IN OUR MIDST_.

"No," Percy breathed. He threw the paper back on its pile and aimed fiery and glistening eyes at Biani. "Finn put you put to this, didn't he? It's his idea of a stupid prank. You shoulda known better. You shoulda not let them print this trash. It ain't true!" He turned those eyes on Credence. "Right? Tell her it ain't true."

The Obscurial felt like he had fallen into a time pocket. Everything was moving so quickly, but somehow, he wasn't moving with it. Every night, in his nightmares –

"_Credence," _Percy's tone had changed to desperate. He gawked at the Wampus who he thought he had known, the one who was starting to look more and more like the boy on the page. "It's ridiculous. Tell her. You're not... an Obscurial."

Credence tore his eyes from the page and forced himself to look into Percy's. He could explain. He could get rid of that horrible expression, but his mouth was so dry.

The page slipped form Percy's hand. "No," he said again.

"Percy –" Credence took a step forward but the other stumbled back.

"No! Get away from me!"

The Obscurial watched with crippled eyes as his only friend backed out of reach, then made a break for it. Percy ran out of the hall, shedding only one last look behind him at the boy, the Obscurial.

**A/N: This was another one of those scenes which I've had planned out from the very beginning. The secret was too juicy to be kept hidden from the student body for long. Well, Credence had two and a half months of normality. I hope this was melodramatic enough for all y'all. Please review!**


	47. Chapter 47: What You Escaped From

Chapter 47: What You Escaped From

What... had just happened? He was exposed, that was what. The game, the charade, was over. And it had driven away one more person he cared about.

The wave burst upon him. The paper crumpled in his grasp as, like the coward that he was, he dashed from the hall. The Obscurus knew him too well. It fed on the despair like a gluttonous animal, rising up. It was overwhelming. He hardly cared what the cowering Fourth Year behind the stand thought of him, or the other wanderers in the halls who whispered or cleared away from his path. An adult voice called, "Hey!" when he took the stairs two at a time, but he didn't even flinch. What did it matter if he got in trouble? He was in trouble already. He was The Obscurial, and right now he felt much more like that than Credence Barebone.

Ravina was rearranging the raspberries on top of her porridge. The fruitlets were transfigured of course, not being in season. Her work waited for her as soon as she was sufficiently comfortable, but a woman could take her time, couldn't she? Dark clouds hung over Mt. Graylock, and seemed to send their gloom falling down on the castle with the snow. Ravina ready to accept anything that was more exciting than filing papers.

The door to her cluttered closet of an office slammed open. An almost visible ripple of air scattered papers and notes to the floor. "Credence?" she asked, startled.

"Put a force field around me," he panted.

"What's the –"

"_Now!"_

Ravina had never, _ever_ known this boy to speak with so much authority. She fumbled for wand and had barely muttered, _"Protego Maxima," _when the black energy burst free. Her magical sphere groaned. A piece of paper fluttered in the midst of the chaos, not for long though. It was shredded by barely structured fingers before Ravina had a chance to get a good look at it. The Obscurus pounded on the walls of its prison like a child in a pen. The crying sounds ringing from it were hardly bearable. Anger, and grief. It twisted, pressed out, and swirled. The spoon that had been resting on her porridge bowl clattered to the ground, but she didn't even look. Everything else in the room seemed to still, save that one sphere of sound and motion.

Ravina was starting to wonder how much she and her force field could take when, finally, the shifting sand consolidated off of the sphere's walls. It folded, and the waves became fabric. The strings became hair. The roaring cry became a gentle, moaning sob.

"_Finite." _Ravina rushed to the child's side. His body was heaving. His head was buried in his knees.

"What happened?" she asked frantically. He couldn't answer, of course. Ravina shoved aside her curiosity pulled him into her arms, like she had months ago when he had finally opened up about the Obscurus. He had been doing so well, what had happened? But no, questions weren't what he needed right now. For a few minutes the only sounds that could he heard were high, heavy whines and an even heavier breathing.

"The... the newspaper," Credence finally managed to gasp.

"What –" Ravina noticed the tiny bites of paper lying like snow all over the ground where her force field had been. She conjured the repairing charm. Credence sunk into a sniffling silence as the scraps that he had just destroyed magnetized back into _The_ _Ilvermorny Imager_. The witch didn't even need to see the full thing before she understood.

"How did they find this?" she whispered.

Credence gulped. He thought he had an idea, but wasn't about to explain it all to Ravina. "I don't know."

Finn could just wait.

"_The New York Ghost," _Ravina read the quotation over the part copied from the mainstream paper, "Daddy – Professor Hodges – he needs to see this." She gazed worriedly at the child, still with wet patches glistening on his cheeks. "Do you think you can stay here until I get back? I'll explain to Professor Eructo. She'll understand."

He didn't trust himself to speak, - a lie might become more obvious since he already had a giant lump in this throat - so he just nodded. Ravina squeezed his shoulder, sending a shiver through his chest, then hurriedly half-ran out of the room, newspaper practically burning in her hand. The Obscurial waited till he could no longer hear the clip-clop of heel on stone, then slid up the wall to a standing position. The feeling of energy building up until he felt like he was about to explode had been dissipated. There was only an aching now. He wasn't even sure if that came from the Obscurus or was just a universal reaction to suddenly being exposed and feared by everyone he knew - again. Percy though... That haunted look in his eyes.

So, it was true. All people would leave him in the end.

_All except one._

The door stood ajar. A thin ray of light protruding into his dark space. Ravina hadn't bothered to _make sure_ he would stay inside. The first time this sort of thing had happened he had been locked up in a cell. Maybe this was a test, see if he would run given the chance.

Credence slipped out of the office door. He let familiar, aching tug guide him downstairs, back to where he belonged.

**A/N: I came up with something interesting, sort of by accident, while writing this chapter. If wizards can transfigure things like cups into mice or that sort of thing, they can transfigure food too, right? And if they can transfigure food, then that solves a lot of problems. This has probably already been explained somewhere in the Potterverse and I just missed it. But why don't they share that info with us muggles, huh? I feel like there's a detail from the books or Pottermore that talks about this, and I'm just missing it. If I am, tell me in the reviews section!**


	48. Chapter 48: What Professor Hodges Said

Chapter 48: What Professor Hodges Said

Percy ate a grudging breakfast. He grudgingly practiced _Lacarnum Inflamari _in Charms and Spells, and didn't even get much fun out of watching Finn squirm. Grudgingly, he even got the nerve to enter Defense Against the Dark Arts and look into the eyes of the man who had first said the word 'Obscurial' to him. Did he even know about Credence?

The subject remained untouched till Kir Karab had the guts to raise a hand. "Is it true what the paper says about Credence, Professor Hodges?"

The white-haired wizard exhaled a long breath through his teeth. In that moment, Percy was sure. Professor Hodges had known all along. The man had some nerve. "Things aren't always how they look in black and white, Mr. Karab. There's always more to a story than a two-inch headline. There's more to a person than the sum of their problems. I would think very carefully before you judged someone based on a rumor."

Percy slumped flat on his table at the back of the class, his arms folded on the wooden desk and his chin flat against them. He suddenly understood why Credence always kept his head down. There were times when you just wanted to disappear.

The pipes dripped. An even, rhythmic sound that came every two seconds; thirty times a minute; 1,800 times an hour. More than an hour had passed since Credence had climbed under the sink in the bathroom, his back against the cold wall. Alone, well, mostly. Just him and the drips.

First-Year-sized feet hitting stone brought him out of his stupor. Percy walked in. His light blue robes were parted, allowing his hands to dig into the pockets of his trousers. Spotting the small body huddled beneath the sink, he remarked, "I thought you'd be here."

Credence watched his shoes. He couldn't look up at his friend's face. The last time he had seen it, that look of betrayal and horror had had seared itself indelibly onto his memory.

"Yeah, so, today's been kinda a drag," Percy continued, "I tried everything. I even hung out with Loner Joe, but after a while he told me to get packin'. Said he couldn't be seen by one person too much or he'd have to change his name." The corner of his mouth cracked into a grin, but it died before it could reach the other side of his face. Credence allowed his eyes to scan the expression for a second before they dropped back down to the floor. Why was Percy trying? Credence had lied to him. He had betrayed him. He was a _monster_.

"So," Percy pawed the ground self-consciously with his foot. "I guess it's true then. You're an Obscurial."

Credence nodded, not daring to look up again.

A low whistle came from above, "What's that like?"

Unexpected.

"You're not afraid of me?" Credence asked, not even daring to make his voice hopeful.

"Are you kiddin'? Took all my guts just to come in here." Percy shrugged, "I mean, I guess I get why you didn't tell me, cuz I did kinda run away. I just panicked, I guess. You heard what Professor Hodges said about you guys. The most dangerous magical thing ever? I don't want to get blown up. But, I guess if you was gonna do that, you would've done it by now."

Credence almost considered a small smile, but remembered the look of horror again and the proposition was dropped.

The eleven-year-old removed the hands from his pockets and reached one down to the boy under the sink. "Here. C'mon." When Credence hesitated, he said, "You can't stay down there forever, you know. It's disgustin' in here. Trust me."

Credence took the hand and allowed Percy to pull him into the hall.

**A/N: It took me a while to justify Percy coming back in my head. Honestly, he really is a Thunderbird at heart. He's not about to let a little fear stop him from experiencing something new and exciting. But I tried to give a sense of time passing so it wouldn't just feel like he left and came back in five minutes. I was also wondering how the teachers would react once the news was leaked, but the thing is, the situation is kind of on the down-low, and the more they can keep it that way, the less likely parents are to boycott their school. So, it's in their best interest to be tight-lipped. That joke about Loner Joe… was like the first thing I ever came up with after making his name. I know, pure genius. You're welcome. Please review!**


	49. Chapter 49: Now's Your Chance

Chapter 49: Now's Your Chance

"So, what's it like, bein' an Obscurial?" Percy's initial fright was slowly fading, giving way to his more trademark overwhelming curiosity. Credence noticed that he still kept a couple feet between them as they walked though. Well, at least Percy was trying.

He thought for a minute. The Obscurus was _him_, but something else at the same time; something completely separate. "Like having an evil twin."

"What makes you go all black and tornado-y?"

"I don't know. That just started happening a little while ago."

"Does the Obscurial –"

"Obscurus."

"Right. Does it, like, take control of you on the full moon or when you see blood or somethin'?"

"No! It's not like that." Credence struggled to explain. How could he describe that ever-present, threatening pulse behind his fingertips? "It's hard to control. It used to escape when I did magic, or it's even worse when I'm upset, or mad at someone."

"Oh, well then how come you haven't taken out Finn by now?" Percy asked.

Credence could _almost _laugh. "Because if I did I'd be expelled and sent to be tried at MACUSA and they'd probably lock me away forever."

"Oh." The other boy's hopeful tone was carried away by his seriousness, "Wow."

Unconsciously, the two of them had been traveling towards the dining hall, where Madam Foster was experimenting with a new dish that was becoming popular in New York. It was called _pizza_, and actually smelled wonderful. Credence remembered a diner that had sold it a couple miles from where he'd lived, but of course, he'd never been allowed to taste it.

The two boys suddenly stopped still. Credence's stomach complained at the delay, but he barely noticed. Some footfalls were clomping down the passage in their direction and voices echoed off the walls; three small, but all too familiar voices. Credence felt a boiling rage bubbling up from his core, and that terrified him. He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't promise what he'd do to Finn if he saw him.

Finn rounded the bend and cut off his conversation with Burke, Reitherman, and Howard. The four of them halted in their tracks with what Credence might have though was unease, until Finn folded his arms and put on that cocky expression that was especially smug today, "Well, if it isn't Mr. O."

"Mr. O?" Credence asked.

Finn gave him an incredulous look.

Credence suddenly got it. "Oh."

The others snickered.

"Now's your chance," Percy breathed out of the corner of his mouth, "I'll distract these simps.

"Looks like you sunk pretty low to do somethin' like this," he said in a loud voice, "Guess we must've hit you were it hurts."

"He brought this on himself by being an Obscurial," Finn shot back, "I did everyone a favor. We have a right to know what kind of bugs we share a room with."

Credence slid out his wand. _Now's your chance, _Percy had said. That blistering anger was still lit like a furnace in his chest.

"Yeah?" Percy's voice was nearing shouting-level decibels. "Well, I guess I'll remember that next time you step your shoe-loaf into our common room. I might just put up a barrier spell: _No bugs allowed._"

"Like you could conjure a sign, you -" Finn felt a slap on his shoulder from Boris and looked around to see the Obscurial's wand pointed straight at him.

"_Petrificus Totalus," _Credence cast. It had never been so satisfying to curse someone. The other boy had just enough time to whip out his own wand and counter with, "_Finite!"_

The two spells met in mid-air, nearly invisible, but undulating with energy. The wizards held their ground, wands pointed at each other's hearts. Credence closed his eyes and felt a boiling heat flowing through his wand in a never-ending fountain. Last time, he had tried to forget who he was fighting, and that had ended with him lying humiliated on his back. Now, Finn was what drove him forward.

His eyes popped open at a sound like cracking ice. Finn's arms and legs snapped together. His wand fell out of frozen fingers. He teetered.

Boris, Byron, and Royal took one look, and then at Credence the Obscurial still brandishing the sizzling wand, and were gone before he could even think of a second spell.

"And stay out you pug-ugly, gang-grovellin', caterpillers!" Percy called after then, running up to Finn before he toppled over. Percy grabbed the larger boy by the Gordian Knot pin on his robes and held tight, so that their eyeballs were mere inches apart. Finn made a cross between a groan and a growl at the fabric cutting into his neck. Credence picked up the discarded wand, rubbing it between his fingers.

"Who's on top now?" Percy hissed, "Remember this: I'm better than you; I'm smarter than you; I'm gonna get you. And thanks for the line."

He let go. The heavy boy would have fallen straight on his back if Credence hadn't flicked away the full body-bind just in time.

Their opponent stood, composing himself. Finn's mind flashed jealously to his friends, who were probably near the other side of the castle by now. Hadn't he trained them to be more loyal than that? Well, it couldn't be helped now. He had business to attend to.

"You've got my wand," he said.

Credence stared back into his eyes. The hand that held Finn's wand tightened slightly.

The bulkier boy slid a foot forward, casting his shadow over Credence, "Give it back, Barebone." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Percy making some wild gestures, but neither he nor the Obscurial paid any attention. "Give it." A few more steps. Credence backed up as he advanced, but his hand stayed stubbornly by his side. Finn wasn't used to this. This was _Credence_, the one who cringed at the drop of a feather. Then again, he was an Obscurial. "Hand it over, you freak!"

The last word seemed to shatter some sort of façade. Credence flinched. He had also retreated so far that his back was rubbing up on the rough stone. Finn sidled up till he could hear the smaller boy's breathing. He plucked the wand easily out of a loose-fingered grasp. Credence looked down to his hands. That was more like it. Finn heard a small groan behind him from Boyd.

As the prize left, Credence's eyes raised to Finn's with a look of such loathing that it sent an involuntary shudder down Finn's back. It was more – there _was _more – behind those curtains than Finn had ever seen. And it was horrifying, what was in there. Suddenly, Finn understood why Credence always kept his eyes down.

And that was when he remembered the newspaper.

With a small sound, Finn stumbled back the way he had come, picking up speed as he left. Credence didn't think that he had ever seen Finn run, not with all the threats Percy had ever doled out or spells he himself had cast. He emerged from the shadow of the wall. Percy looked like he was about to blow a gasket. "What'd you let him take it for? Do you know what we could've done with that thing? We could've held some serious power. We could've taken a ransom!"

"We don't need it," Credence said, his voice low.

"Why the heck not?"

"Because now we know what he's afraid of."

"Yeah, fire," Percy said exasperatedly.

"No. What he's really afraid of." Credence watched the shadow of where Finn had been. He could still see that final, retreating look of terror. Everyone got it eventually. "Me."

**A/N: This scene was the second one I ever wrote down for this story ever. I wrote it to display Finn's character. And it's a pretty pivotal moment on multiple accounts. This is the end of Part 2. The parts get steadily shorter, so we're more than halfway through the book. I had to put Percy's misuse of the word 'Obscurial' in there just because I see the same sort of thing so often, even among Potterheads. I know I might be bashing this to death, but seriously, it's everywhere. Through my research, I realized that pizza was just becoming a thing in mainstream America right around the time of this story (the first pizza place opened in 1905 in Manhattan, which is incidentally very close to where the Barebones lived), so obviously, I had to throw it in there. Please review!**


	50. Chapter 50: Everyone Knows Now

Part 3:

Blast Out of Body

Chapter 50: Everyone Knows Now

The chill that followed Credence everywhere he went was almost as tangible as the falling temperatures outside. November was dragging on, and each day that passed seemed to leave another inch of snow on the ground. The Obscurial's eleventh birthday was drawing near. He tried not to think about it. When he did, it only left him with that inward cold feeling like the one he had had right after overhearing the conversation that had started the whole Obscurus Incursion. Had he ever in his life been a lucky exception?

Percy had noticed how people treated his friend differently even before he knew something was wrong. Now it seemed like the whole bottom floor of Ilvermorny thought Credence had a six-yard force field around him. They treated Percy himself like he was the carrier of some contagious, Obscurus disease.

"It was nice knowing you," Kir said later that day when he was passing by with Dibon and the rest of Finn's gang. Percy boxed his ears and landed himself in detention. He didn't really care. The people's reactions were what really bothered him. It was even more haunting when he remembered that that was how he had reacted too.

The teachers were being downright infuriating about the whole business. Credence claimed they knew all about it, but if that was true, it would take a stronger wizard than Percy to get it out of them. They must have all been asked at least a hundred times if the article in the newspaper was true, but all anyone ever got out of them were redirects and riddles. Professor Hodges was the worst. Credence explained the connection he had with the man, as well as Professors Ro, Luckey, Tsalagi, along with the school guards and some woman named Ravina. Well, if they had come to the consensus that Credence would be allowed to go to school, they certainly weren't helping him out any. He was haunted week in and week out by frightened peers and foul whispers.

The one satisfying reaction that came out of this mini-catastrophe was that of the gang. Credence had been right. The priceless faces of Finn, Boris, and Royal when Percy and Credence had come into the Wampus dorm almost made all the other shunning worth it. Almost. They still teased Credence and scorned Percy from afar, but as soon as the Obscurial sent a threatening gaze at one of them they would scramble back like vampires at the sight of the sun. Percy would laugh loudly (then later find an exploding dung bomb in his book bag). Credence said he enjoyed it, and sometimes even smiled at the retreating backs of the gang member he'd frightened. Ilvermorny didn't hold many opportunities for that sort of thing when it came to small, quiet students like Credence, poor fellow. But then, there were the other times, usually after something like that happened, when a faraway look would come into his eyes and he would grow even more quiet than usual. Percy thought he understood, at least in a distant sort of way. It was tiring having everyone afraid to be near you. Still, he tried to focus on the fun part of it. Finn didn't know that Percy had been eavesdropping when he had tried convincing Abernathy to let him stay in another room – until he heard the uncontrollable snickering from around the corner and had to endure Percy's jeers for the next couple of days. Abernathy himself was one of the few that hadn't started avoiding the two of them after the article came out. In fact, it was almost as if he was making excuses to be where Credence was. They kept finding him in strange places. For a prefect, that wasn't necessarily fun. Percy found himself wishing Abernathy would just get the memo and fear them just like everyone else.

"You _could_ just, you know, make it happen," Percy said one day when the gang was being particularly Obscurus-worthy. "I mean, everyone knows now. You don't have to be so secretive no more."

Credence shook his head so vigorously it looked like it was ready to fall off. "I can't. You don't understand."

"Why not? I thought you said you could control it enough to not let it puppeteer you around like they said."

Credence fidgeted with his wand and his eyes got that faraway look again, "Sometimes."

Percy wondered why he felt so disappointed.

**A/N: The first chapter of Part 3! The only thing I really want to talk about for this chapter was the blurb on Abernathy. We all know the guy. The one who helped Grindelwald escape prison? In the movies, it was supposed to be this big twist and surprise, but in my fan fiction, I wanted to try and explore what Abernathy was like before he joined Grindelwald and what led him down that path. That's why I wanted to kind of imply that he has this sort of draw towards Dark Arts or Dark magic in general – a.k.a. the Obscurus. That's what I was going for. There's more of that to come, but I don't ever super explain it outright, so I thought I'd do it here. Please review!**


	51. Chapter 51: Live Past Ten

Chapter 51: Live Past Ten

Not long after the _Imager's _infamous article, Percy found himself caught alone in the public halls. This wasn't as difficult as it used to be, as the amount of people willing to get within a couple feet of him had shrunk to a number that he could count on one hand. It was kind of annoying. Was he the one with the dangerous, magical being inside of him? No! Well, if they were going to be chickens, that was their business. He came from stronger stock than that.

An all too familiar voice instantly made him reconsider his last thought. "Hey, toad!"

Seeing that there was nowhere to run, Percy did the next best thing: folded his arms, wrinkled his nose, and turned around to meet the thirteen-year-old marching through the after-school crowd in his direction. Samuel Boyd looked like a slightly darker, crosser version of Percy. The way people exclaimed about how much they looked alike, you would have thought they were twins. Both the boys hated that. Who wanted to be tied down with the face of an annoying, energetic squirt? Who wanted to always be compared to the Horned Serpent grump?

Sam put his hands on his hips as soon as he got near to Percy, "You know what they say about that fella you hang out with?"

"Ah, take a hike. I _can_ read," Percy said, rolling his eyes.

"He's an Obscurial!"

"What else is new?"

His brother's expression was like the one he wore when he was about to put Percy into a headlock. "Do you _know_ what that is?"

"Of course I do, simp. We learned all about it in Defense Against the Dark –"

"Ugh, First Years!" Sam swung his bag off his shoulder and pulled out a thin book that had _Restricted Section_ written all over it, "Think you know everythin' all the time! Look, I got this from Professor Hodges. You're little 'lesson' didn't teach you the half of it." He flipped to a page with a miniature version of the picture from the infamous Obscurus lesson and read aloud, _"This parasite has been called the most destructive of its kind because, upon its insurrection, it is bent on the total annihilation of everyone and everything around it. Even the host is not safe from this great demon, as none has ever been recorded to live past ten –"_

"Wait, what?" Percy pried his brother's arm out of the way so he could see the page, but Sam pushed back.

"Get off! This is mine. Besides, the point is that none of us should be anywhere near that fella. He could spontaneously combust at any minute. It's just a matter of time –"

"You just shut up!" Percy felt too strained to argue. He needed to get to Credence.

"Hey, I'm not through with you!" Sam called after him. "If I don't chew you out, you just wait for Ma and Petra to hear about this!" But Percy had put his hands in his ears and was running toward the Wampus House Wing.

He burst in, hardly even feeling the usual rush of terror at having to reach inside a great cat's maw to open the door. Only two people occupied the space. Credence was sitting at one of the desks, writing a lesson summary for History of Magic. Dibon lounged on the poofy chair, enjoying the rare treat of it being empty. In a moment of insipience, Percy ignored him and shouted at the Obscurial, "You don't hold it back because you're tryin' to be all righteous. You're just as scared of it as the rest of us are. It's gonna kill you! Why didn't you tell me your days was numbered?"

Dibon took one look between them, shut his Magical Creatures book, and skittered out of the room. The Obscurial nearly upset his jar of ink.

"You're not supposed to live past ten," Percy continued.

"Yeah." The voice was so low he could hardly hear it.

Percy sunk into the unoccupied poofy chair. While he had been running, he'd hoped that maybe Credence would laugh and say that that book was written in 1663, and that tons of Obscurials had lived past ten since then. But, in the back of his mind, he had realized how unlikely that was. "I shoulda seen it comin'. You always get so weird when you talk about it..."

"I don't want to hurt you guys, really," Credence said quietly, "And I don't feel like I'm dying." He added, "Well, not anymore."

"Hey, you must be past that already." Percy perked up slightly, "So maybe it doesn't apply to you. Aren't you eleven now?"

The Obscurial shook his head, "Not yet."

**A/N: I know that Samuel Boyd has been mentioned a lot up until this point, but this is the first time he has really been seen since the second chapter. Don't worry, he'll be back… eventually. The last bit goes back to the whole Credence-started-a-year-early thing, that's why he's turning eleven while everyone else would be turning twelve. Please review!**


	52. Chapter 52: Old Timer

Chapter 52: Old Timer

_Happy Birthday to me… Happy Birthday to me… Happy Birthday… Happy…_

Credence woke up dead the first time. At four o'clock, he thought he was being strangled by the Obscurus, but it was actually just his sheets twisted and wrapped around him. The magical parasite thumped in his head like a heartbeat. In every dream he ended up dead, dead, dead. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why couldn't he enjoy his eleventh birthday like everyone else? Credence lay in a haze. He had been terrified to go to sleep the night before for fear that he would never wake up again. Maybe it was illogical, but no one really knew how the Obscurus killed its host. Did it take them over and never allow them to return? Did it suddenly turn on its host and devour it like it did everything else? The Hodges had always been tight-lipped on that subject. They didn't want him to think about it. It didn't help.

Percy was the only one who noticed his inexplicable repulsion to getting out of bed that morning. Credence felt bad. Percy was such a good friend, – a friend who tried to pull him off the mattress by the feet – but he didn't understand. He couldn't understand. _Credence_ didn't understand, any more than he had understood the Obscurus way back when he had lived with the Second Salemers. All he knew was that the idea of death petrified him even more than the idea of life. When he had still been ten, there had been a mental clock constantly ticking down and reminding him _time is short, time is short_. 'Short' had turned into 'zero' in record time. Amid the half-conscious fog of sleep, he waited for the Obscurus to make an end of him, like it had to every other one of his kind.

Percy tickled his toes.

"You're supposed to be celebratin', old timer," he said. "C'mon, we gotta get movin'."

Credence was so distracted as he got up and dressed that he didn't even notice that Percy also seemed distracted or nervous about something. He snapped back when Loner Joe asked, "What's that you're hiding in your pocket?"

"Nothin'! Just a postcard." Percy stuffed the slip of paper further into the folds of his robes.

Things began to look up after breakfast. Getting out in the light and tasting the raspberry jam that was available for toast helped bring Credence out of the dark, shivering corner his mind had lodged itself into that morning. He could tell Percy was trying to be cheerful for his sake, but he kept looking apprehensively at the hole on the left side wall where all the owls flew in every morning for mail call. Credence never got mail. He couldn't think of a time when even a telegram had had his name on it. But that morning brought a pleasant surprise. It was dropped by one of the school owls. A little box and a card flew right past Percy and into Credence's lap, both baring Ravina's name on them. A _present?_ He couldn't believe she'd actually remembered.

Percy got something too, from the owl he shared with Sam. The youngest Boyd often got letters from his mother or sisters back in New York. Credence caught him returning their correspondences sometimes at night when he was supposed to be doing his homework. This scarlet red envelope, however, did not seem welcome. Percy's face blanched till it was about the color of Credence's. "I'll, um, I'll be right back." He scampered from the dining hall. Credence had barely time to think of a question when a great noise exploded from the door as it closed on Percy. It sounded remarkably like a woman's voice.

To keep himself distracted, Credence slowly opened the card. It seemed right to do that before the box. The heading was, _To the official oldest living Obscurial. _The words both brought back that inconsolable dread from the morning and him feel strangely proud. Inside the box was a tiny, white cake about the size of his hand. It had a two, equally proportioned candles seated in the center so that if he tilted his head them from the side, they looked like an '11'. Little flames peeped up as he opened the lid.

"What'd I miss?" Percy came back, a little red-faced. "Ooh, someone got you a cake? Are you gonna eat all that?"

"What was that scream?" Credence asked as he moved to cut the cake in two.

The other boy's face grew even redder, and he glanced around. "You heard that? I mean it was just... just a howler. Stop, wait, you ain't blown out the candles yet."

Credence paused his cutting and quickly extinguished the two candles. "What's a howler?"

"You didn't make a wish, did you?" Percy plowed forward in a clear, _drop it_ tone, "That's the whole point of blowin' out the candles. It's the most important part. Here, _Lacarnum Inflamarae."_ He flicked his wand, a little harder than was necessary.

Credence decided it was pointless to try and get further information. He stared at the two tiny flames. There were so many things he could wish for, so many things he needed. He could take those nightmares away. He could make people stop avoiding him like the plague. He could get Finn and his gang to leave him alone.

_I wish I were normal, _he thought, and blew out the candles.

**A/N: This concept I actually came up with while writing the first draft. I've kind of talked about it briefly in previous chapters, but never so outright. Credence's reaction to his eleventh birthday could be considered analogous to a patient with a terminal illness told that he has three months to live. The terror and dread would obviously be amplified in a child so young and who is already emotionally troubled in so many other ways. On lighter subjects, yes, Percy's howler was a reference to Ron's in **_**The Chamber of Secrets.**_** If you didn't get it, it was from his sister for befriending an Obscurial, that was why he was especially sheepish about it. I realize that Percy bares a lot of random similarities to Ron Weasley; being a secondary main character, having a lot of siblings, and being afraid of spiders, etc. However, I assure you, they are purely coincidental. I hadn't even read the Harry Potter books when I made up his character. Please review!**


	53. Chapter 53: Dibon and Kir

Chapter 53: Dibon and Kir

Two boys, looking almost identical with their matching gray hats, black, curly hair, and olive skin, where heading in opposite directions half an hour before Thanksgiving feast leftovers on a Friday evening. Like two, matching magnets - until one of them doubled back.

"Kir, where are you going?" Dibon sidestepped a group of Third Years and caught up to his brother, who was stealthily making his way down the Ilvermorny halls. "The Wampus common room's that way."

Kir stopped, a little guiltily. "I know. Uh, you fellows play without me. I'm no good at wizard's chess."

"I'm not either, but..." Dibon steered his gaze backward, "You're going to Finn's meeting, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" Kir said defensively.

Dibon folded his arms, "I think Liviana's right. You're spending a lot of time with the gang. They're kind of getting intense."

"You say that like you're not right there with me most of the time."

"Yeah, well... I'm not going to that meeting. Finn's treating this like a war, with plans of attack and everything."

"That's because it is a war. It's a _prank_ war."

"I think it moved beyond pranks when Finn exposed that thing about Credence being an Obscurial."

"Oh, yeah, so that was Finn's fault," Kir said. "I mean, I'm surprised he's even allowed in school. How did anyone think that was a good idea? We have to live with him. What if he does something terrible to one of us? Then we'll have wished we'd have done more about it. Finn was just showing people what they deserved to know."

Kir was getting agitated, defensive. Dibon hated when he got like that. He'd never been as passionate as his brother, that was why he usually lost this sort of argument. "He hasn't done anything to us yet," he tried.

"Yeah, not yet." Kir turned around and began continuing down the path to the library, "You can still come and help us if you want. Just tell Liviana and Eana that we were doing important stuff. They don't have to know all the details."

"No."

"Suit yourself."

"No, I mean, you shouldn't go either." Kir was surprised to feel Dibon grabbing his arm and turning him around. "If you go, then Finn will rope you into some crazy plan he has and you'll get in trouble. _Everyone_ will be in trouble. You want to blow this chance we got to learn magic at a wizard school? We have to show them we can make it. We have to show Ma and Pa –"

"Shut up!" Kir said, a little more aggressively than he'd meant to. He shrugged his brother's arm off. Dibon meant well, but no matter how much they looked alike, he was a different person. He didn't understand. "Don't you get it? They're not here. We can do whatever we want, Dibon. I don't have to follow any stupid rules anymore, and neither do you. So, I don't care what you do, but I'm going to make the most of it. I make my own way around here."

He spun around for the last time and hustled down the hall in the direction of the library.

"Wait, Kir!" Dibon called, but he didn't chase after him. If Kir wouldn't follow him of his own accord, neither giant nor hurricane could push him back. Dibon had the sinking feeling that he'd made his brother _more_ determined to go to that meeting of Finn's. _Why did I have to choose _today_ to pick a fight? _he wondered.

**A/N: This comes back to the subplot I was talking about earlier. I wanted to show how the prank war was effecting the greater student body, beyond just Credence, Percy, and Finn. In case you're wondering about the first sentence, Credence's birthday (which I got from Corvus Lestrange's birth certificate, because that's what Mary Lou Barebone would have gone off of) was the day before Thanksgiving in 1915. This chapter takes place two days later, on the day after Thanksgiving. There was nothing really important that happened on that Thursday in terms of the plot, so I thought I'd just skip over it. Please review!**


	54. Chapter 54: This is War

Chapter 54: This is War

"Here's the plan. Everyone, we need to stop this hocus-pocus, namby-pamby art we've been doing. We need to hit Boyd and Barebone so hard that they'll be too scared to even think about fighting back. Is this gang the run of the school or what? We can't let these losers shove us out of our place and take our name. We're going to win whatever it takes. Who's with me?"

Finn found himself met with a lot of downward gazes and uncomfortable fidgeting. If the table in the corner of the library that they had gathered in had been outdoors, he probably could have heard crickets.

Finn dropped his arm, which he had raised in the air. "Oh, c'mon fellas. We're supposed to be the _real_ Wampuses here."

"Whoa, Finn, speak for yourself," Don Hahn, a Horned Serpent, said. Richard Pearson and Pippa Anderson and Byron Howard nodded.

"Whatever, you know what I mean." Finn folded his arms. "We're not losers like them. But we've been acting like it ever since we found out that Barebone's an Obscurial."

The second silence that followed was even more uncomfortable than the first.

"I'll tell you who's the loser," Pippa Anderson said, breaking it. "Royal, why didn't you tell me that I would be the only girl here? You could've been nice and invited a few more."

"I'm sorry!" he said sincerely, but looking relieved to get off the topic of Obscurials. "I tried to talk Liviana Carga into it, but she threw her Potions stuff at me. Now my hair smells like dead frog."

Kir was becoming more and more interested in the wood carvings on the tabletop. With Dibon gone, the certainty that he'd had just a few minutes ago was slowly draining away.

"People, we need to focus," Finn was saying, glaring at Royal and Pippa. "Barebone? The prank war?"

"Hey, just so you know, I'm with you Finn, whatever you wanna do," Richard Pearson, a Puckwudgie, and one of the most loyal in the group, put in.

Finn let out a relieved sigh, glad _someone_ was backing him up, "Thanks, Rick. I knew I could count on –"

"Just so long as it doesn't have anything to do with that creepy Obscurial stuff."

"Oh, c'mon!" Finn's hands went up in the air once more. "You fellas do realize that that's the whole point of why we're here, right?"

"I came because _Royal_ said more of my friends would be coming." Pippa said stubbornly. A few of the others nodded. Finn realized with a sinking in his stomach that for the first time in a long time, he might not be able to talk his friends into doing something. Even Royal and Boris weren't looking him in the eye, and they lived in the same room as him. What was the alternative though? To just give up? To two social rejects? The thought of that made Finn feel even sicker than the looks on everyone's faces. He'd told Credence he wasn't a Wampus too many times to simply surrender to him now. He would never live it down.

"I don't get why you're so against us," Boris finally squeaked from his end of the table, "I thought you were just as afraid of him as any of us. You even asked Abernathy if you could switch to a different room! I heard Boyd teasing you about it."

Oh no. Speaking of things Finn would never live down.

"He did what?" Don Hahn leaned into Boris, a gleeful expression covering his face. Kir sat up in his seat once again, looking from Finn, to the redhead, who was nodding, and back. Finn's face had grown tomato red.

"Boris Burke!"

"What?" the little fella's face was turning red also – not mixing well with his fluorescent hair – under Finn's accusing eyes, "They deserve to know, since you're acting all brave. What did you do when Barebone took you out of that body-bind? You ran, just like the rest of us."

"I didn't… run," Finn said, "Look, I don't care what kind of freak he is. I won't be afraid of that wimp."

His voice was so unconvincing that even Richard Pearson was looking doubtful. Finn looked from one of his friends to the next. Pippa Anderson was glaring at her hands. Royal and Boris were glaring at each other, seeming to be having a silent argument. Kir, Rick, and Byron looked as if they would rather be anywhere but there, and Don was fishing around in his pocket. He pulled out a rather crumbly-looking oatmeal cookie.

"What are you doing?" Finn snapped, though his mouth had begun to water involuntarily at the sight of it.

"Hey, you're making us skip supper," Don said, smacking his lips. Finn noticed the others watching him with hawk-eyes.

He flopped down in a chair, finally. Everyone just wanted to leave. He wanted to leave. But he couldn't end it like this. The looks on the faces around the table told him that if he capitulated and let the gang disperse, they would never stand up to Percy and Credence again. They would let fear overtake them; _lose_, all because Finn wasn't strong enough to stand up against a boy half his size. For the hundredth time, he wished that he had never seen that article of _The New York Ghost. _

Finn sat up straight, a new idea suddenly having occurred to him. "Maybe he's not as dangerous as we think he is."

Kir really started paying attention. Were his No-Maj-born ears deceiving him, or was the charismatic leader starting to sound a lot like Dibon?

"Look Finn," Byron Howard spoke up, "I'm the only Thunderbird in here, and even I don't want to see what a real life Obscurus looks like up close."

"No, hold on, just listen for a minute. That newspaper that I found was from the summer, right?"

"July 12, 1915," Don mumbled through his cookie.

"But we all saw the trial that happened during the summer. _The New York Ghost _wouldn't lie about something like that." Pippa said, watching Finn carefully. "You did get it from _The New York Ghost_, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, found it in the newspaper records room and everything." Finn waved it off. "But think about it. He was here, what? The whole summer? And has anyone ever actually seen this Obscurus-thingy? They could have found a cure for it by now, and Barebone's just not telling. You see the way he likes to play with us. I bet him and Percy would get a hoot out of seeing us be all nervous over something that's been fixed for months. That would explain why he's allowed in school with us. Do you really think Professor Blygull would let an Obscurial wander around Ilvermorny?" Finn was getting excited. If he didn't have to be afraid of Barebone, well, everything could go back to the way it was. His friends would come back to him again.

Kir was torn with whether or not he should be arguing with Finn, like he had with Dibon, or sticking to his side. He had defended Finn against his twin brother, why should that change just because Finn's arguments were changing? Finn's gang was known for being intensely loyal. If he was going to be one of them, that was the first step, right?

The other five around the table were looking just as torn as Kir felt. Boris was the one who said what they were all thinking, and Kir envied him. Boris could say whatever he wanted to Finn and not have to worry. He had known Finn his whole life. "She might if he had agreed to keep it a secret from all of us."

Finn looked like he was tempted to cast an Incarcerous spell targeted solely at Burke's mouth. His eyes dripped with determination. Considering Finn's history, that was a scary sight. "If I prove it to you guys, so we know for sure one way or the other, will you help me win the war?"

"Um, Finn, what are you planning?" Royal asked, glancing nervously at Burke.

"_Will you help me win the war?_

"I'm not afraid of him" – Finn's voice faltered slightly – "and you shouldn't be either. What would we be known for if we let those two rule us because we were afraid? We'd be hypo… you know, those people who say one thing and then do the other thing. We wouldn't deserve to be popular. How would you like going on and never know if I was right?"

His words went right down to your toes. Finn knew how to be persuasive when he wanted to be, and when he needed to get something done. Kir wouldn't look into his eyes. What would Dibon say if he knew what was happening?

Finn had gotten up from his chair by now and was pacing around the head of the table. The people still seated looked around at each other tentatively. "Just give me until the end of the year," Finn was saying, "I'll find a way to show you –"

"You don't have to show us anything," Richard said.

"I'll show _me_ then," Finn retorted. "You guys won't get in any trouble, I swear. It's my idea. The professors can come after me if they have to. Now, do we have a deal?"

The uncertain glances went around and around the table, no one quite sure what would happen if they spoke. Finally, Don Hahn raised his hand as if he were in class, "Why not?"

"I mean, if we wouldn't get in trouble…" Pippa said.

"We're with you, Finn," Royal, Boris, Richard, and Byron said to varying degrees.

Kir was feeling a tingling sensation rising from his chest through his throat. He couldn't sit here and watch anymore. He couldn't go back and forth, not fully committing to either side. He had to make a choice, to stay with what he knew, or to pioneer out in the dark following someone who was just as blind as the rest of them. He remembered Dibon, "_We have to show Ma and Pa." _Their parents would certainly not approve of what Finn was planning right now.

"Agreed," Kir said.

**A/N: I think it's safe to say that this is my longest chapter yet in this series, and it will probably remain the longest. The fact that it's one, fluid scene makes it impossible to break up into two chapters, the way I do with the next one. Hopefully this helps explain why it's taken so long to publish. I actually had to completely rewrite this entire thing, as the original version had some messed-up logic and just needed general refurbishing. Hopefully some of the gang member's names you recognize from earlier in the story (Pippa Anderson, Byron Howard). Don Hahn however is actually someone who got a piece of dialogue with Finn way back in the chapter titled 'Magical Creatures of the USA', though he was only addressed as 'Hahn'. If you want to go back and look at that chapter with this new knowledge, be my guest. Don Hahn doesn't get as much show time as he is worth. Maybe I'll have to find a way to stick him somewhere in Book 3. Goodness, even this author's note is longer than usual. Please review!**


	55. Chapter 55: Come Over Here

Chapter 55: Come Over Here

Credence had always imagined that he would be excited for the upcoming Christmas break. Wizards liked to celebrate at Christmas time. Credence had never known things like glowing pine trees or boxes with bows, but he did enjoy Christmas when he had lived with the Barebones. Maybe it was just one day out of the year that was slightly less awful than all the rest. Then again, when simply living took all of your mental energy, any sort of slackening of the cords was a relief.

Things didn't seem to be getting easier at Ilvermorny though as December rolled in. The professors, the especially difficult ones, could smell out the break even though it was still a few weeks away. They seemed to believe that in order to make up for the holiday, they had to make sure that the students worked twice as hard now to pay for their vacation when it came. "I can't have any fun at Christmas if I'm sleepin' the whole time!" Percy complained after the third consecutive night of staying up late practicing Transfiguration. Charms and Spells also had him tied in a knot. Professor Eructo didn't mind the idea of a couple weeks off, in fact, she spent her class time trying to load on the Christmas spirit early. The problem was that there was still a skills test at the end of the year, and Percy had always used the time in class to practice the spells he learned, saving afternoons and evenings for the more demanding classes like Professor Ro's or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, it was hard to master spells like _Reparo_, when everyone was busy learning the charm for creating Christmas-colored confetti.

The extra strain on time had made it harder to focus in on the ever-rumbling prank war. Percy insisted that if they drove home the fears of the gang with enough spooking, they, specifically Credence, wouldn't have to worry about things like getting Confundus-charmed in the middle of class. It seemed to be working too. Finn and his followers had gotten a lot more cautious ever since that day of finding out that Credence was an Obscurial.

"You know that sludge Chán's makin' us do in class later?" Percy said two hours before Potions one day in early December. He said this between mouthfuls of tomato soup and biscuits, which was making a sludge of its own between his jaws. "Great dilly if the boys found it in their shoes tomorrow mornin'. And then you could whack them over the head with all your Obscurus powers -!"

"What? No!"

"Ok, alright, just a suggestion."

Credence was so focused on shoving down fantasies of sending Finn and his gang running for the hills as a tower of black smoke that he didn't even notice the footsteps coming their way. Percy noticed. His munching jaw went slack with disbelief.

Dibon set his food down awkwardly on an unoccupied side of the small table. "Hey," he said. The two gawked at him.

"Hey yourself," Percy answered eventually, sharing a quizzical look with Credence. A couple of seconds of silence with no explanation, and then, "Who paid yous to come over here?"

"No one," Dibon said, not looking at them, "I just felt like it."

Credence and Percy continued to stare suspiciously until the twin squirmed in his seat. "Fine. Liviana double-dog-dared me. But I was telling the truth. I think I might be changing my mind about you...two." He watched Credence awkwardly.

The boy set his spoon down, steeling himself, "Everything that was in the paper was true, you know."

Dibon twisted the small hat on his head nervously. Credence dared look into his eyes and found them surprisingly resolute. "I think," he said finally, "That if you were going to kill us, we'd all be dead by now. I mean, the teachers thought you were safe, right?"

Credence decided not to mention that half the professors here still had their doubts and he was technically still on a probation status. It was nice just having one less person fear him for now.

**A/N: I debated whether or not to split up this chapter. The next chapter was originally part of this one. The whole thing was just getting kind of long and it was two separate scenes that didn't technically need to be together. What do you think? Please review!**


	56. Chapter 56: The Party

Chapter 56: The Party

Student who needed to plan evil schemes got to meals early, so obviously, Percy and Credence had been some of the first to sit down. By the time Dibon came over, only half of everyone had been through the line. It was another ten minutes before the mass of First, Second, and Third Years were all gossiping merrily at the tables; gulping down soup in hopes of maybe tackling their sky-high piles of homework before the next class. That or fly outside to play Quidditch, depending on if the student was a Horned Serpent or a Thunderbird. Neither was about to happen however. Someone in long, cranberry robes was approaching the front of the dining hall like threatening, pink, storm cloud.

"_Sonorus," _Professor Blygull said, and innocent chatter subsided. Credence and Percy had just been in the middle of deciding via eyebrow-wagging if they could still talk about pranks in front of Dibon. He could very well be a spy for Finn's gang. But all three of them welcomed the distraction.

"Gotta be somethin' big if she came down here to us," Percy said excitedly.

"I have a very important announcement for everyone," the headmistress continued, "In exactly one fortnight, on the last day before the break, we shall be having an all-school Christmas party. Everyone is welcome to attend, unless of course you have detention." She gazed pointedly at a few of the students. Percy did his very best to make himself look busy. Pleasant threw her hands up in the air. "There will be treats prepared by Madam Foster, as well as music for those who like to dance. Of course, everyone should be aware that their attendance is entirely based on their performance in the next two weeks. Anyone who gets so much as a 'D' or less on their exams will be doing make-up during all subsequent celebrations and not be allowed to attend the party. I expect the very highest from you. That is all. _Quietus."_

She exited the stage to a crowd of fluttery students. Excited chatter began even before she stopped talking. Those who were used to getting 'D's scuttled out to see to their homework. A few of the wannabe Quidditch players followed suit.

Credence wasn't exactly sure what to feel. A party sounded fun, especially following the feasts on the first night and Thanksgiving. At the same time though, all those people... Most of them wouldn't come near him as it was. For once he found himself grateful for that. His Ma's job had given him enough exposure to crowds to last a lifetime.

Percy was already talking almost before the headmistress had said "_Quietus":_ "I got it! Better than sludge in the shoes, and almost nearly as good as -." he stopped when he remembered that Dibon was still sitting there. "Never mind. We gotta make sure Finn or his gang don't make it to the party. Can you imagine the looks on their faces when we get to go and they don't?"

"You think you'll manage to stay out of detention with them after you?" Dibon said, "You?"

He might as well have unscrewed Percy's mouth and reattached it upside down.

"Well…yeah?"

He did look a bit deflated though. Credence was busy trying to figure out if he should be more excited. This was what he had wanted, right? Some real festivities? Something better than a roll of sweet bread and a twenty-four hour break from school work? Still, all those people… He remembered how he had felt on the first day, like he was lost in a deafening ocean. But Dibon was probably right. Odds were, the gang would find some way to keep them from going.


	57. Chapter 57: We Made It

Chapter 57: We Made It

"Pinch me," the giddy youngest Boyd bounced on his heels. "I can't believe we made it here."

December 17th, eight days until Christmas. The castle looked it. For weeks, it had been slowly transforming, trying on the inside to match the season on the outside. Tsalagi had moved into the castle, as the snow had grown from difficult to impossible to traverse with his cane. Credence hoped his teacher hadn't been put into his old room on the second floor facing the balcony and entrance doors. An observant wizard like Professor Tsalagi would probably be able to tell that something has been magically patched back together a certain number of times.

The windows had gotten warmed with heavy, embroidered drapes. Some very unhappy-looking puckwudgies had gone class-to-class the day before with trays of hot chocolate, butterbeer, and coffee. It might have caused an interruption if anyone had been paying attention in the first place. With the holidays at their fingertips, every student had had the singular goal of turning every class into a party, whether the professors liked it or not. Now, stepping into a great, round room that no First Year had ever been before, listening to a self-playing band and one of the Seventh Years singing 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs', and almost getting bowled over by the smell of gingerbread that hit upon entrance, there could never have been a better time to jubilate. Credence had almost forgotten how many people Ilvermorny contained. Dozens of taller forms intermingled, talking, laughing, and picking up shots of gigglewater from the trays that floated by. The laughing increased dramatically.

The Obscurial almost couldn't believe that they'd made it here. It had seemed like wishful thinking just a few weeks ago. With Finn and his gang out to destroy them? They might as well have pretended the party didn't exist - besides keeping the other side out of it too. But the crazy thing that began dawning on Credence a few days after the announcement was that, for some reason, the gang didn'tseem to be out to destroy them, or even keep them from the party. Most of them had been even more skittish around Credence than usual; walking on the other side of the hall when he was going to classes; leaving a room, like the library, if he entered it; catching themselves before laughing at him too hard and sharing nervous glances with one another. Even Finn was being quiet around him. Dibon's twin, Kir, avoided him like the plague; and lately, Dibon had always gotten moody when his name was brought up. Percy whispered that they must have had a falling out.

Just because the gang wasn't going on the offensive when it came to the end-of-the-year festivities didn't mean that Percy and Credence hadn't been busy. The two of them once had just managed to lure two Puckwudgies, Pearson and Anderson, out past curfew, when they had had a very near miss with the guards. It wasn't easy to say that you were just running to your dorm, and yes, you knew that it was late but had lost track of time, with Daniel Dawson glaring skeptically at you. Credence had persuaded Percy to lie a bit lower in their efforts after that. That didn't mean that Boris Burke didn't get a bouquet of flowers up his nose or Royal Reitherman didn't wake up with glowing, green hair one morning. Percy had said those were just to keep life entertaining.

Pleasant materialized next to Credence as he stepped into the ballroom. She was holding a good-sized gingerbread cookie in one hand and another piece between her teeth. Her white cotton dress with lace all over it looked decidedly wrong on her, like a crocodile eating with a fork and knife. "Hey, Pipsqueak. Don't look so gloomy. You survived half the year!" he thought she said, though it was a little hard to tell through the cookie. She let out a hoot and slapped him on the back, knocking all the air out of his lungs. The Obscurial moved out of her range as fast as he could. Pleasant's pleasantness did give him comfort in one area though. Slowly, over the last few weeks, people seemed to have decided that the danger of the his Obscurus just wasn't worth the trouble of constantly giving him a three-yard berth. Some of them had even started being something like normal again. Not the gang members of course, but Credence didn't mind being avoided by them.

The crowd was pressed together around the edges of the room, specifically near the large double-doors. The small boy wriggled through their masses, trying to find a place where he could breathe again. There were _so_ many people, so much noise. It felt like he had fallen into a cage of stir-crazy pixies. Credence saw that the back of the gingerbread house – the one Madam Foster had set up – was cast in shadow. He made a beeline for it. Percy, wherever he had got to, could find fun on his own.


	58. Chapter 58: Enjoy It

Chapter 58: Enjoy It

Percy Boyd had been here, there, and everywhere before the dance floor was even opened up. He inspected the tinsel, tried to convince Professor Hodges to let him turn the candles on the tree blue, ran back to grab some hot cocoa from the witch inside the gingerbread house, saw the girl who had sung the Ilvermorny School song at the beginning of the year and nearly choked on his drink. Mother Isolt, she was even more beautiful than he remembered! He started to approach, then went back to set his mug down. Best to do this with two free hands. He doubled back again when he realized he probably had a chocolate mustache. Now _that_ would have been embarrassing. Who invented hot cocoa anyway? It was such a problem-causer. Cider was so much safer. In fact, now that he thought about it, he probably should go back again to get some cider. The curly-haired blonde with the melting smile could wait one more minute.

Alton Abernathy seemed to be having similar problems to Percy Boyd. "Queenie!" he called from several yards away, but was obstructed by a Second Year with the Dancing Feet Spell on him, who was preforming a complicated set of capers across the general vicinity. As soon as the coast was clear, Abernathy made his way, a little awkwardly, to the slew of Seventh Years that the belle was a part of. Percy came back from his trip to the bathroom (you never could be too sure there wasn't stuff in between your teeth) to see him offering her his arm. They made it to the dance floor, surrounded by a thousand other couples, and began shimmying to the foxtrot. The sweet liquid swishing in Percy's mouth suddenly tasted just like water. Why was she dancing with _Abernathy_ of all people? He was so short, and pale, and not even that interesting. Percy shook his head disgustedly and began to look around for Credence.

The Obscurial had found himself a nice little corner next to the gingerbread house and was nibbling on the roof tile, trying not to be noticed by anyone. He was watching the dance floor as if it contained a massive, sleeping Hungarian Horntail, not several hundred happy witches and wizards. Percy found him, still muttering colorful descriptions of their prefect to himself. "Have you ever seen such a slimy, inconsiderate, self-obsessed little...little..." his eyes fell on the dessert table, "Puddinghead."

Credence followed his gaze back to Abernathy and the blonde doll making their way round the dance floor, "Have you met her yet?"

"Well, no," Percy admitted, "But you can't say nothin' to me, you ain't talking to nobody."

Credence shrunk back into his corner.

"C'mon," Percy gave his friend's suit a friendly tug, "We's lucky to even be here. Enjoy it."

"You enjoy it." Credence shook his hand off. "I like it here."

"You're really weird sometimes, you know that?"

Percy jumped up to grab a piece of the gingerbread house's roof, like the one Credence had. The extra sugar gave him a boost of bravery. As the lively tune came to a close, he made his way across the round room. Someone called the doll's name – _Queenie. _She let go of Abernathy. Percy set his teeth, straightened his suit, and moved forward.

"Percival Boyd! You haven't danced yet, have you?" Liviana Carga grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait –!" But it was no use. She dragged him out on to the circular floor just as the next song was beginning. Percy saw Queenie give her arm to another Seventh Year fellow. He was being stupid. With her beauty, there had probably been a sign-up sheet laid out two weeks ago with enough boys on there to last her till next Christmas.


	59. Chapter 59: You Don't Look So Good

Chapter 59: You Don't Look So Good

Credence wondered again what had made him so excited to come here the past fortnight. The threat of it being snatched from him probably had something to do with it. Everyone he knew had been counting down the days. As soon as he stepped into the room though, he remembered just how much he hated crowds. All those people, most of them twice his size. All that noise, voices so numerous and interlacing that he couldn't have picked out a single conversation if he had tried. His senses felt like they had just received a draft of firewhiskey. It was too much.

Madam Foster had made herself a miniature hut out of gingerbread and was serving her decorated cookies inside as well as stirring the cauldrons of hot chocolate, apple cider, and butterbeer. The only problem was that students kept breaking off pieces of the hut if they didn't want to wait in line. It had begun to look a little shabby. Credence broke off a piece of roof and looked for a place to hide. There was nowhere that was really safe. He settled on standing in the least crowded area possible behind the hut while watching the jollity all around.

Two girls in matching dresses will generally manage to spot each other upon entering the same room. Likewise, Credence soon found the other First Year Wampus in the mingle who wasn't mingling. It was unnatural when Finn didn't have a crowd around him, like he had gone out without any clothes on. Yet there he was, alone. Credence didn't think he had ever seen Finn looking so apprehensive. His wand twirled between his fingers. That made Credence really anxious. Who kept their wand out at a party? Finn looked his way, and the Obscurial quickly switched his focus to the dancing.

Percy was out there now, paired with Liviana Carga. Her hair was curled and bouncy, and her layered, red dress spun out when she did. As a lead, Percy was actually doing very well. Where exactly _had _all these witches and wizards learn how to dance? It wasn't like it was something taught here at Ilvermorny. They had probably learned at home, with all of their normal, caring families. Just one more reminder of how out of place he was.

The Obscurial's hand bit down on the table like a viper. It needed to in order to keep him standing. A wave of dizziness had suddenly hit, making his legs feel like they had melted. Something was very wrong. The Obscurus, the monstrous bear in hibernation suddenly woke up, as if it had been shot in the side with an arrow. Credence's stomach churned like a whirlpool. He closed his eyes, trying to keep it down.

The song concluded with a flourish. Percy broke out of the ring of people and wandered back over to Credence's corner, wiping the sweat from his brow. _"Latinas,_" he panted, _"Que Bueno," - _and downed his mug of cider in one gulp.

Credence wasn't listening to him. The imprisoned creature pounded against its bars, stressing them to the limit. Why? Why was this happening to him, out of the blue, _now?_

"Percy..." he murmured through clenched teeth, "I don't feel so good..."

"You don't look so good, pal." His friend set down his mug, "Gingerbread ain't agreein' with yous?"

"It's not that." Credence could hear the desperation creeping into his voice. He looked back over at Finn, but that boy was sitting down now, gazing out at the crowd. He could feel his muscles seizing. He was shaking, like he hadn't done since the day of the newspaper. The room began to spin. "Percy..."

"Woah," Percy said, "Is this -?"

They were starting to attract attention. As Credence raised his trembling hands - to his horror starting to turn gray - he saw in the frame of his vision bodies turning his way, heads leaning in. The all-too-familiar sound of whispering began. Credence whimpered: "Help me."

Percy barely hesitated. He moved forward, wrapped his arms around Credence like a blanket. The Obscurial's vision grew cloudy. He didn't see it coming, didn't know until it was too late. As his best friend's arms covered him, he felt a cord inside him snap. The bars bent. Credence drowned into the blackness.

Every dark fiber in his being drove itself headlong into Percy Boyd.

**A/N: Whoops! Forgot to put an author's note at the end of the last chapter. There's a lot to say about this one. Would you believe that this entire plot line wasn't even in the original concept? It was actually a dream that I had while writing the first book. Yes, I dream about my fanfiction. But it worked so well that I thought I might just add it here, and I'm very glad I did. It fits super well. Yes, I did use **_**Avengers: Infinity War**_** as inspiration for some of Credence's lines here. That's the awesome thing about fanfiction. Please review!**


	60. Chapter 60: Let the Dust Settle

Chapter 60: Let the Dust Settle

The instant it was out, Credence felt like himself again. The sudden, inexplicable ache had subsided. Now he had a new problem. His body had converted into the now-familiar, black whirlwind. It dispersed upon ramming into Percy; but Credence could think now. He pulled back on it with everything he had, like fighting a tug-of-war with an opponent three times his size. No way would he have been able to do it four months ago, but this time he was ready. The Obscurus felt lost without a target of destruction. Credence grabbed for control, tumbled, condensed, and next minute he found that he could look around at several hundred shocked students, dismayed faculty members, and one sole friend all staring back at him. Oh…oh no. This time he really did want to throw up. Percy's gaze dropped down to where, under layers of tattered and decimated clothes, an ugly, gray blotch had encompassed his chest. Lines, like claws or cracks, raked their way up and down. Percy looked back up, and stared at the Obscurial with something like - was that pity? Then his eyes rolled back, and he dropped. Credence felt his stomach drop along with him.

Something shattered. A broken record in Credence's mind kept saying, _not Percy, not Percy. _If he was born to be a murderer, it _couldn't _be his only friend. Anyone but Percy.

The party had turned into pandemonium. People who rushed forward to examine the fallen student also skittered back from the havoc-stricken assaulter. Teachers were shouting, trying to gain control. Daniel Dawson and Rafael Valadez pushed their way through to examine Percy, at the same time trying to hold Samuel Boyd back from wringing the small boy's neck. It was all a muddle, a cascade of spinning and unrelated words. Credence couldn't see any of it, just one lifeless body on the floor, his stamp marking it for all to see.

An arm grabbed him from behind and began dragging him back. He fought and struggled at first, but most of the fight in him was occupied somewhere else. The Obscurus had loved being free. _Why? Why now?_

At last, doors slammed in front of him and the riot was shut out. He turned to see who had taken him and almost died with relief. Ravina's arms were open. It took him a few minutes to realize he was repeating the same words over and over through a wash of tears. "He's dead. He's dead. I killed him. He's dead..."

"Shh. You don't know that," Ravina soothed, but she didn't sound very convinced. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill him."

The doors flew open and one very frazzled Professor Hodges stomped out. "What in the name of Merlin happened back there?"

"Daddy..." Ravina motioned with her eyes. The Obscurial's complexion still closely resembled porcelain that has been dropped on the floor. His mouth had stopped moving, but in his mind still resounded those two, ungraspable words: _he's dead, he's dead. _Like a wave replenishing its land over and over again with salt-saturated wet, till the ground screamed for a free breath of air. Each swallow stung.

Rocky's expression softened. He nodded at Ravina, then whispered to her as he passed by, "Bring him to the nurse's office, and walk. Boyd's already been apparated there. Maybe all everyone needs is a little time to let the dust settle." To himself, he added, "If he doesn't talk, by God, I'm getting the Veritiserum."

Credence couldn't say much on the way there. Slowly, as his wits shakily collected themselves, he knew that he would have to explain this sooner or later. Sooner, knowing the people here. Catastrophes on this scale wouldn't be satisfied with the old 'it was an accident' line.

Stepping into Ms. Weasley's long room, he saw one more person that he was not excited about: Sam. The Third Year stood with his back to the door, facing a bed with the still Percy lying on it. His eyes blazed when he turned to see Credence.

"_Leave!" _he bellowed, drawing his wand and pointing it straight at the Obscurial, who hid behind Ravina's sleeve.

"Boyd!"Rocky flicked his own wand and muttered, _"Expelliarmus." _The weapon thwipped out of Sam's hand and landed in the professor's. The Third Year didn't even bother to try and get it back.

"I don't want yous near me, or him. Do you understand?"

Credence saw the lamp-lit shine to Sam's face through the fleeting glances around Ravina's arm. The bloodshot and twitching corners of his eyes were almost harder to bare than his shouting.

Rocky gave Ms. Weasley a slight nod. She nodded back and grabbed Sam's arm gently, in her soft accent saying, "Let's keep our heads on, shall we? I need to finish my examination. I'll let you know when I'm through."

"You're sayin' _he_ can stay here and I can't?"

"We still need to ask Credence some questions about what happened," Rocky explained.

"Ain't it obvious what happened? He –"

"Boyd," Rocky's tone was firm, "Go back to Horned Serpent. We'll let you know when there's any news."

Something about the Professor Hodges' voice when he got like that made it the instinct to obey. Sam looked between him and Ms. Weasley, then Ravina and Credence. "Fine!" He stomped out of the office.

**A/N: Based on Newt's comment in Fantastic Beasts when looking at Henry Shaw Jr. ("Don't pretend. Look at the marks. It was an Obscurus."), I think it's safe to say that the Obscurus leaves the same gray, crackly scars on anyone it attacks, and that these scars are fairly widely recognized. It didn't happen to Ravina in the last book because she wasn't attacked by the Obscurus; **_**she**_** touched **_**it.**_** Please review!**


	61. Chapter 61: Elaborate

Chapter 61: Elaborate

Credence wished Sam had stayed. The Third Year would have probably ripped the ears right off his head if he had had the chance. He would have taken a fishing hook and pried the Obscurus right out of the Credence's marrow. He would have done _something_. Made him hurt. Credence deserved to hurt. He deserved to have a knife driven through his chest the way his Obscurus had driven itself through Percy Boyd. Just standing here with all these adults watching him like – well, like in the jail cell before the trial – was worse than any curse Sam could have cast on him.

As soon as the Third Year was out the door, Ms. Weasley drew her wand through the air and a black curtain spun out from it, wrapping around herself and the bed like a cocoon. Percy was hidden behind it. Of course he was. They wouldn't want the one who had done this to him to be anywhere nearby while they examined his body.

Credence slid into the chair that Ravina guided him to like partially heated butter. He had thought he was in control. After his birthday, he had even begun to hope that the biggest part of this Obscurus problem was behind him. Its thoughts didn't invade his so much anymore. His magic didn't explode uncontrollably out of him like it had whenever he'd try to use it before. The last few close calls, he had always been able to handle. And he was eleven now; the oldest known Obscurial. So what had gone so wrong?

Outside the small window, stars were twinkling as usual. If tonight were like other Friday nights, Credence would be helping Percy quickly cram-study their names for the astronomy lesson the next night. It usually wasn't much help, as Percy spent the majority of those lessons dreaming up the next trick that the gang would have to deal with. He'd come up with the idea to give Finn Essence of Insanity while looking at Jupiter's moons.

They'd never gotten to play that prank. Finals had made school extra busy and the ingredients were hard to find. They hadn't gotten the chance.

Ravina watched a couple of pin drop tears dribble down the line of the boy's nose. His face remained still, staring straight ahead at nothing. He didn't try to wipe them away; he didn't even seem to notice. The picture brought her a little too close to the memory of him in a little jail cell under the castle, a force field keeping all living things from getting close to him. This was how he used to cry.

The sound of rippling fabric brought them both out of their trances. Ms. Weasley's wand was sucking her curtain back in. "He's not dead," she announced before any questions could be asked. Credence's head snapped up, something like hope stirring inside him again. The matron continued, "You – it – did something, but I can't understand. I don't even know if it's physical…" She didn't look at Credence, but instead ran her hand along the cracks in the gray blotch on Percy's skin.

"Could you elaborate maybe?" Rocky prodded.

"Alright." She straightened her flowy dress, looking to the professor this time. "It's these marks that are confusing me, for one. They only go skin deep. His heart is beating normally. There's no reason why he shouldn't be awake right now actually, but he's not responding to any treatment I'm giving; no spells, no potions, nothing is working. I can't even heal the scar tissue. But it's hard to try and do anything because, well, watch him."

Credence had long since tuned her out and was listening to the sounds coming from the bed. He was seated too far and too low to see into it, but he could hear a sound, small and weak. A moaning, a whimpering. It wasn't like any noise he could imagine Percy making. But it couldn't have come from anything else.

As Rocky moved beside the young nurse to examine Percy for himself, she turned her eyes to the Obscurial and looked straight at him for the first time, "What did you do to him?"

Credence knew there was no getting around talking about it now. The only thing he wanted to do was to go far away, back in time maybe – was there a magical tool that could do that for him? – but he was stuck. In a chair. Talking to a group of magical people about something horrible that his Obscurus had done.

It was the trial all over again.

**A/N: Hello, I'm back! I realize I haven't posted in quite some time. One thing has led to the other, and, well, here we are. But I will be posting more consistently now. The book is almost done! I felt like Credence might be the type of person to wish harm on himself for something that he had done, because of the way he cried after his mother's death, but that's a little unclear in the series. Does he regret his actions? We don't really know. This is just my interpretation. Please review!**


	62. Chapter 62: Who is Responsible for This

Chapter 62: Who is Responsible for This

Professor Blygull came into the nurse's office halfway through the Obscurial's explanation, making him start at the beginning and go through it all over again. It was painful to watch; and terrifying to hear. Roma Weasley found herself thinking, _so this is what they meant by 'uncontrollable, magical force'. It can't be predicted. _Then her memory shifted back to the trial; a similar experience, where she had had to judge whether this thing or this boy had been right or wrong in their actions. _We spoke too soon. We didn't know what we were allowing, even if he wasn't guilty…_

Professor Blygull remained a statue throughout the explanation. Finally, when the boy was done, she addressed the adults in the room: "Have you checked for curses?"

There was a stunned silence. The Hodges looked between each other and the healer. No one wanted to challenge their headmistress.

It was Professor Hodges who spoke, "With all due respect, Professor Blygull, that rule was put into place long before –"

"You have not, then? Going by the spirit of the law, Roger, I am not greatly afraid that this Obscurial's parents will come rushing to complain if we perform this particular spell on him. Students may be entitled to their own privacy, but I think we would all prefer them to be alive first."

Ravina tightened her grip around Credence's shoulders and he got the impression that Professor Blygull's speech was supposed to have offended him or something. It might have, if he had any idea what spell they were talking about, or if he cared. Would it hurt? Maybe then he would finally get the pain he deserved. Percy groaned from his cot.

"Roma." Professor Blygull had turned expectantly to Ms. Weasley, and, after one look with Professor Hodges, she drew out her wand. Credence closed his eyes and braced himself.

"_Specialis Revelio."_

The spell didn't hurt. It didn't feel like anything. Credence was just wondering if it had even worked at all when, in front of his eyelids, he saw something. Golden flashes filled his entire vision, blinking on and off rapidly. Ms. Weasley drew in her breath, "Merlin's beard." Credence opened his eyes, blinking away the darkness that was a result of the flashing.

"What?" Ravina was looking from between her father and the healer, obviously as confused as the boy at her side. "Was it supposed to do that?"

Ms. Weasley's stunned voice came out as if the words were in a foreign tongue, "It appears it wasn't his fault after all. Credence had the Revelio Charm cast on him fifteen different times."

"_Fifteen?"_ Ravina repeated.

"Yes, very badly. Whoever did it couldn't have really known what they were doing. That must have been why the spell took so long to take effect, but I suppose, after fifteen times…" her voice trailed off. The five of them remained silent for a minute, separately putting the pieces together. Credence felt a heat rising in his face and his hands ball up into fists. He hoped the others didn't notice, as they might change their minds and think that he was a dangerous attacker after all. But oh, if Finn's stupid game had permanently injured Percy… Credence couldn't guarantee he would have restrained the Obscurus' vengeance.

"So, it wasn't Credence's fault?" Ravina asked, as she must have seen that he wasn't about to ask the question.

"No," Ms. Weasley answered, "No, I suppose it wasn't."

"At least my trust has not been broken," Professor Blygull said, gazing pointedly at the Obscurial, "Credence, do you know of anyone who would do this to you?"

Credence wanted to shout out the name, but he wasn't sure he trusted his voice to not sound like a growl. Rocky Hodges was way ahead of him, though. He had picked up his suit coat and was striding towards the door, an icy look of determination on his face.

Professor Blygull was not very used to being abandoned without explanation, "Why are you leaving, Roger?"

Rocky was already at the door, but he turned around. "I work with his class, Professor Blygull, and I think I can get a good idea of who is responsible for this. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go kill Finnley Finnington."

**A/N: I am not sure if it was perfectly clear, but basically the teachers are not allowed to use the **_**Specialis Revelio **_**charm on their students because of some student confidentiality rule. I figure a large group of pure-blood wizard parents would be very fru-fru about that sort of thing. I tried to clear it up, but am not sure how successful. I was. Please review!**


	63. Ch 63: An Unintended Level of Curiosity

Chapter 63: An Unintended Level of Curiosity

As predicted, the chubby, Wampus First Year was not asleep. Professor Ro led him – or pushed him – into Professor Hodges' office. She let him go none to gently. Rocky glanced at the shadows under the boy's eyes, then at the clock, whose hands were aimed sky high. It was going to be a long night. He tapped his quill against the desk. "Finnley, Finnley, Finnley... Have a seat and let's talk."

Finn looked like it was taking all his mental strength not to retort with some smart remark as he stood insubordinately in front of Rocky's desk. It took only an extra hard look from the professor, however, before he grudgingly took a seat. Professor Ro remained where she was, standing at the door; a solid wall in case he decided to run.

"Alright, Finn. You are here to tell me what exactly happened there at the party not too long ago, and before you begin, you should probably be aware that we already know about the Revelio Charm, and you will need a very good alibi if you want to convince me that you did not cast it."

Finn's eyes were the only thing that betrayed his alarm at the professor's words. Rocky counted down. Within seconds, the old arrogance reappeared like a charm. "I did it." Finn looked directly into the professor's eyes, not a trace of shame on his face. "It was me."

Rocky shook his head, hardly believing his ears. Just like that? He thought the First Year would have at least put up something of a fight. Well, no matter. "Do you know how absolutely stupid that was, Finn?"

The boy finally looked a little sheepish, "How was I supposed to know the thing was still dangerous? I thought it might have all been some trick. The professors won't say nothing anytime anyone asks them. They wouldn't even say if the freak _was_ an Obscuri-what's-it-called."

"Watch your language," Rocky growled, "You should count yourself lucky that it wasn't you that was hit. You practically offered yourself or anyone nearby up on a silver platter. All for your childish curiosity; the next tally in a game you're playing. Well it is not funny, Finn. You are toying with a thing that is bigger and more complex than you are apparently capable of grasping. You are a talented kid, I will give you that. And that little conniving, slimy mess of brains you got up there just might be worth something someday. But you have to stay in school for anyone to give you two seconds' notice, and right now you just broke about fifty rules and are teetering on the edge of expulsion."

Finn's head snapped up. Words like _expulsion_ made his hairs stand on end. This definitely hadn't been part of the plan.

"Yes, suck on that for a minute," the man said, satisfied at the fear in the boy's eyes. "I could expel you and you would have to leave all your friends, your little game, behind. It would be completely gone because of one moment of stupidity. I hope your happy, Finn."

Professor Ro made an approving sound in the back. Finn, for once, looked small.

"I am not going to do that though," Rocky continued. "You were right about one thing, and don't start kissing your cat just yet. Only one thing. Perhaps our secrecy regarding the Obscurus Incursion did foster an unintended level of curiosity. It does not excuse what you did, but it does mean that you were not technically fully aware of what you were doing. I almost wish that you were. I think a few years at home learning magic from the house elf might finally teach you some humility, but your friend Credence going to school here at all sets a prescient for second chances. You should be thankful for him. I am going to take fifty points from Wampus House, and you will be doing detention for the rest of the year."

"_The rest of the year?"_ Finn burst out.

"That, or I could see that you don't get into any magical institution during this half of the twentieth century. Take your choice."

The boy licked his lips as if the words tasted bad, "Detention sounds fine… sir."

"I knew you would see it that way eventually. Have a nice Christmas, Finn."

Professor Ro came back in after she had finished depositing the boy to the Wampus Wing, just as Rocky was about to leave, "You were too easy on him."

He was not in the mood for her right now. "I know it might be hard for you to comprehend _not_ expelling a student after something like this, but –"

"I was talking about the Obscurial."

"Come again?"

The young professor didn't waver. "A child is comatose because of him. If anything, this proves that he shouldn't be allowed around other students."

"Laren, he was cursed. You are asking him to maintain perfect control of an uncontrollable beast while spells are being fired at him fifteen at a time?"

"You excused Finn for curiosity. What if the other students get curious? You know that idiot boy is just going to go to his dormitory and be praised by his peers for being so daring. He is already a luminary among them, this will just elevate him the next level. To the others, it won't matter that we punished him."

"So you're asking me to ruin a boy's life because his peers are irresponsible?" Rocky restated dryly. "I'm sorry, Ro, but some of us just couldn't live with ourselves under that kind of justice."

The witch's jaw tensed. She studied Professor Hodges with those dark, suspicious eyes of hers. When she spoke, a surprising amount of emotion escaped into her voice. "So you go on. You ignore what I say every time. And when another get curious you wonder why you didn't see it coming before."

"It's how they learn, Ro."

"How they learn? And what have we learned?" She held the wizard's gaze for an extra second, then strode out of his door.

Rocky leaned against his desk with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. The job didn't get easier. Not one inch. Hiding a dark monster contained inside a child's body, having a First Year lying unconscious in a hospital bed; problems, secrets, wars.

If he wasn't careful, this place would turn into Hogwarts.

**A/N: I had to, I just had to.**


	64. Chapter 64: Have a Good Christmas

Part 4:

Time With the Place

Chapter 64: Everything

The meeting in Ms. Weasley's office dispersed after Professor Hodges left. Credence couldn't go back to his room, where Percy would have been and Finn probably was, if he wasn't being expelled right now. He was glad he didn't have to say as much though as Professor Blygull wouldn't hear of him setting foot anywhere near the other students, at least until the carriages left the next morning. Ravina brought him to her room, a tiny cubby about the size of her office. In his sleepiness, Credence would have been happy to curl up on the carpet, but Ravina snapped him back to the wizarding world when an oil lamp transfigured into an eleven-year-old sized divan. It wasn't as if the little room wasn't hard enough to move around in as it was, but Credence didn't care. He'd slept in worse places. With the light of the lamp gone, and midnight chiming faintly from various clocks around the castle, he tried to pretend that he was in the dormitory; that it was an ordinary school night, and Percy was in the bunk next to him.

For hours he tried, until the absolute exhaustion of the night's events took him into a fitful sleep. He never quite managed it.

Morning arose slowly. Still, most wished the night had lasted longer. Morning meant waking up from the nightmares and realizing most of it had actually happened. Some, like the nurse treating a restless and comatose victim, never slept at all.

The castle was soon scurrying. Everyone had to get packed. The carriages left at ten. Professor Hodges glanced at the sheet of students staying at school while he was refilling his coffee, and saw an already short list with many of its names crossed out. People were eager to get out of Ilvermorny. One family was arriving separately to pick up their students. The Boyds came by portkey. Credence was aroused by Ravina. "Ms. Weasley wants you back," she said, "Percy's asking for you."

Someone else was waiting at the door who made Credence hesitate; he was not a large man, but maybe he just looked more imposing just because of the Obscurial's experience with the school guards.

"I'm sorry about this," Mr. Valadez shrugged, probably trying to look nonchalant, "But the Boyd's, they insisted in their message. Probably safer for you too this way, if the other boys and girls see you with someone."

"It's just until everyone leaves," Ravina added when she saw Credence's face. "I'll meet you down there. Two people with you might be a bit much." She smiled weakly and hurried off.

If Credence just needed someone to accompany him, why couldn't it have been Ravina? He knew the answer as he followed Valadez down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and trying to pull himself out of the half-wakeful dreams of the night. They had wanted a _guard_ with him. A guard with the dangerous Obscurial who had attacked Percy Boyd last night.

Credence was just glad he didn't catch sight of Finn on his way down.

The way Ravina had spoken, it had sounded like his friend would be awake, maybe even up and around. Had he awoken in the middle of the night? But no, when Credence got down to the office, the little crowd around the doorway didn't include a bouncy eleven-year-old. Ravina was in hushed conversation with Daniel Dawson, who was stationed at the door. Both guards now? Credence detached himself from the Valadez as soon as he was close enough and slid past the pair into Ms. Weasley's dimly lit office. He didn't look at Dawson or Ravina, but he couldn't help catching a snatch of the guard's words: "The Boyds will be here any minute. He shouldn't be here when they arrive."

Ms. Weasley met him once he was inside. Her hair was messy and she hadn't even changed out of her white silk party dress. The sounds of pain coming from the bed were even louder than before, and the healer had to speak over them as she led Credence to the bed: "He was moaning like that last night, after you left. I gave him a Calming Draught, and that seemed to help for a little while, but he started up again this morning. He's saying words now. I keep hearing your name, but he's not lucid enough for me to make out clear sentences. It sounded like he was calling for you."

Ms. Weasley had removed the curtain. She stepped back. Credence hesitated. All night, he'd been wishing he could come back, but now that the cot was right in front of him, he found his eyes having a hard time moving up from the legs. Instead he listened. An incoherent mess of syllables was distinguishable now in Percy's moaning, but the words were still a jumbled haze. Was that his name? For a second, he'd thought he'd heard it. Credence was starting to understand why Ms. Weasley never looked him in the eyes, even when her words sounded pleasant. What kind of monster could do this to someone?

"It's alright to talk to him. Let him know you're there," the healer prompted.

With an effort, Credence raised his eyes. The gray, cracked scab, like a fire had charred the greater part of that self-sacrificial idiot's abdomen, was even more visible with the jacket and shirt removed. Credence raised his hand to the spot, then dropped it. What good could he possibly do?

"Percy?" he whispered faintly.

A voice, raspy but familiar, came up from the depths of that scarred torso: "What took you so long?"

The Obscurial's head snapped to the left, and found two eyes staring back at him. Percy cracked a half-hearted smile, "I've been callin' yous the past two hours." His face grew shadowed, "I just couldn't wake up."

Credence almost didn't even hear the words. His friend was alive, and he wanted to see him! It was more than he deserved. "Percy, I'm sorry. That wasn't me, it was –"

"Yeah, yeah, I know about all that," the invalid waved his hand weakly. "Listen, I need to tell you somethin'. It's – hey, get off," He was trying to bat away Ms. Weasley's arms, which held a stethoscope in one hand and wand in the other.

"You couldn't wake up?" she asked as her wand waved above the scarred area. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm gettin' there!" Percy said, trying to rub his eye with one hand and swat the wand away with the other, "Listen, Credence, this is important –"

The doors burst open and Sam marched in, two women following closely behind him. "What's _he_ doin' here?" the boy demanded when he saw Credence at the bed, "I thought I told yous to stay away!"

"Oh brother," Percy murmured, then, "Wait!"

Credence was being ushered out of the room by Ravina. The two women, one younger, and one middle-aged with darker skin, but both with curly, black hair, hastily cleared the path for them as they exited. Credence turned his head to see Percy struggling to sit up on his elbows and call after him, "I understand now. I know what it's like. I saw everything, Credence. Everything."

**A/N: As you can probably guess, those last couple of sentences have major ramifications, which will not be elaborate on until later! No, of course I would never kill Percy, but I might have him go through some hard times. As for Ms. Weasley's character, I wanted her to be the type of person who wants to be on Credence's side, but isn't quite sure if that's the right way to go. I say this because her character doesn't really come in much after this. This is the beginning of the final part! The end is almost here! Please review.**


	65. Chapter 65: Have a Nice Christmas

Chapter 65: Have a Nice Christmas

Credence wasn't allowed to see his friend after that. He watched from the balcony an hour or so later as the Boyd family crept out to meet their homeward portkey. Percy seemed a little unsteady on his feet. Credence gazed powerlessly as his friend hesitated, turning around one last time before he left the castle.

"C'mon, we have to get you home," his sister moved to steer him around, but he shook her off.

"You don't understand. This is important. Why won't nobody listen to me?" His eyes gazed around. For a second, they almost got high enough to notice Credence on the rounded platform above him. It took everything the Obscurial had to not wave or call or do _something_, but even Ravina had warned him against engaging with the Boyds. They weren't likely to take kindly what had been done to their son, no matter what either he or Percy said.

Credence felt another pang of guilt. But what had he to be guilty for? All of this was Finn's doing. Ravina had told him that he'd even admitted as such last night. That unruly, arrogant _son of Morgana_ wasn't even sorry. He didn't even regret what he'd done to Percy. He was probably happy that Credence had to be escorted by guards now lest a panic set in. It had probably been part of his plan all along.

The sounds of the castle died down like a raucous crow going hoarse. A crowd had been bustling about the giant entrance doors earlier in the morning, but now their numbers had dwindled, until their empty voices echoed against the walls. With Percy and Sam finally gone, the only others that were left were the staff that lived here, and a handful of students who were brave enough to bare Christmas at Ilvermorny with a dangerous Obscurial.

It was unnatural to be able to go wherever he wanted, to do anything he wanted without bumping shoulders with the hundreds of other children. That life had become normal in the last few months. He still had to avoid Professor Ro, and tried not to run into the guards either. Talking to portraits more than people became the new day-to-day. That one ancient-Irish sounding boy – Chadwick Boot - painted astride a thunderbird became a common conversationalist.

"Stop there! Where has thou been since nigh autumn's rise?" he asked the first time, pointing a painted spear at Credence's chest. The Obscurial had stopped and debated disclosing the real reason he hadn't been by before, which involved avoiding Byron Howard and Reezie Reitherman – Finn sympathizers. It didn't take very many conversations before Chadwick had asked enough questions to know the entire history of what had happened since school began.

"Why do these things keep happening to me?" Credence asked one day, sitting across from the painting.

Chadwick was reclining on his bird like a hammock, "None knowest why Providence sets some apart to be unlucky. Methinks it makes it better on the rest of us. Tough draw for the unlucky brute though, thinkest not?"

This didn't make Credence feel any better.

The young wizards had been forced, upon leaving Ilvermorny, to deposit their wands with their House leaders until school's renewal in January. Credence had assumed that since he would still be at the castle, he would get to keep his wand. That paradigm was quickly broken. All the students who had decided to stay still had to turn in their wands. That meant no extra magic practice that the young wizard had hoped to do, and one fewer item to fill up the long hours. The sudden lack of magic made him remember the days of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, when he also hadn't been allowed to have a wand. The blocked outlets had built up a wave that turned inward and destroyed him. He still wasn't sure how he was still alive. Not being allowed to practice brought back some very painful memories, and more than a touch of anxiety. The Obscurus fed on suppressed magic; maybe it would use this opportunity to regain some lost control? But Credence didn't feel any change of the parasite side of things as the days slipped by, not like how it had felt at the party.

Credence was not the only one in the Wampus Wing over the break. They had allowed him to go back there once most of the students were gone. This winter, the only other person who had decided to stay was Alton Abernathy. If he had had to share the door-cat-protected suite with someone, Credence had to wish it wasn't with a prefect. Then again, Abernathy had been one of the only ones to not start avoiding him after the whole Obscurus thing came out. If anything, Credence had started to run into him more, in odd ways. At the library occasionally, even though older students usually stuck to their own half of the library, just to make sure they didn't catch any little-kid-cooties. And every time, he always got that look. Not the one that most everyone else gave him, like he was a monster. Something like curiousity, like he was some strange-looking foreign food that Abernathy wanted to taste. It made him feel strangely aware of his own skin. The expression always disappeared though, faster than it came. Abernathy kept to himself mostly, reading or locked away in his prefect room. Whatever he was doing suited Credence just fine. He preferred to be alone too, to brood.

The Hodges tried to keep him busy. Ravina even tried to get him to talk about things he'd done with Percy, but it was to no avail. Credence didn't want to think about Percy. That only made him lonely, and he couldn't be lonely. Last year, maybe he had an excuse, but so much was different now. A lot was better. He had people who cared about him. He had magic. So why wasn't everything ok? Back in New York, he'd thought that if he just had another life, things wouldn't be so hard. He came to the conclusion over Christmas break; circumstances weren't the problem, it was him, he caused the problems; or rather, the Obscurus did. Unfortunately, the Obscurus had become his only company once again.

He had something else to worry about. Finn might as well have gotten off scot-free for all the good detention would do him. Sometimes Credence would sit, maybe even an entire afternoon, and just seethe. He had never hated anyone for doing anything as much as he hated Finn for casting that charm, not even his Ma. He knew it wasn't fair. His Ma had hit him for every tiny misstep and practically grown the Obscurus singlehandedly. What Finn had done wasn't even worthy of expulsion. Yet still, that didn't change how he felt. The hatred was consumed like burning paper, feeding the destructive part of him he'd tried so hard to avoid. Yet somehow, he didn't mind. It scared him more than seeing Percy collapse on the marble floor, but he didn't mind. Finn had reawakened the Obscurus by casting that charm. If he had to deal with the consequences of that later, well, it was his own fault.

**A/N: I italicized**_** son of Morgana**_** because Credence is actually quoting Percy in that thought. Yes, the time in Ch. 24 when we hear Percy say it, Credence wasn't in the room, but Percy has probably used that particular phrase to describe Finn many times in private. Chadwick Boot required some thought to characterize. He's one of the kids from the Ilvermorny origin story, if you'll remember. We know that he was born and raised, at least to some degree, in Ireland, so I figured he would have an Irish accent. Then there's the fact that he lived in the early 1600s, so I thought he would also speak a very archaic English. I kind of wish there were more scenes with him. Like Don Hahn, he was a little too fun to make dialogue for to be wasted on one scene. So who knows, maybe I'll bring him back. Please review!**


	66. Chapter 66: Christmas Cheer

Chapter 66: Christmas Cheer

The twenty-fifth's sun broke out in the early morning only to get eaten by the clouds a few feet above the horizon. Snow was falling with the ferocity of a sky that didn't remember it had done this before, almost every day, the past couple of fortnights. The people in the castle didn't mind not being able to see out of the windows however. They were too busy lighting the torches and lamps with red and green flames, wrapping and delivering last minute presents, and filling up mugs with the sweet drinks from the kitchen.

"I hope you're enjoying your nice relaxing holiday!" Madam Foster snapped at the laughter coming from outside her kitchen. Her eyes were a bit crazed and there was a sticky shine to her brow. "Just be glad you get to eat while you're at it!" The sentiment just arose some laughter from the witches and wizards hanging around the large barrels of eggnog and butterbeer. Everyone was especially interested in setting their problems aside this Christmas, making it a light to the few people staying here. Because the few people staying here were probably the ones who needed it most.

Credence dragged himself out of the dorm to find the entirety of the castle's occupants, even the ones normally hiding away on the second floor, gathered in the dining hall to a rare breakfast of sliced veal and biscuits with gravy. The chatter and laughter seemed to make the cold stones grow warm. Credence quickly grabbed a plate – the nice thing about there being so few people was that there was no line – and capitulated to Ravina's waving arm once breakfast had been arranged satisfactorily. Maybe he could enjoy himself for one day.

Once the main silence of eating was through, Ravina asked what he had thought of his presents. Credence did a double-take, "Presents?"

"Yes. They were in your room," she said. "Did you miss them?"

The boy didn't mention that he had been so sleepy from another night tossing and turning that he hadn't been aware of much until he had smelled the sugar and spice coming from the dining hall. That was enough to wake anyone up. But now that he thought about it, there was a fuzzy memory of something that he had had to step around when getting out of his bed. It hadn't even crossed his mind that they would be presents. Even after his birthday a month ago, the idea still seemed foreign. Now though, after spending a little time in the land of the living, it seemed painfully obvious. He felt embarrassed, "I guess I did." Ravina didn't have to know the details.

It was true that, if they were good, Mary Lou Barebone would go out to the bakery by the docks and buy him and Chastity each a roll of sweet bread on Christmas Eve so that they could eat it, just slightly stale, on Christmas day. It was also true though that Credence had often done something reprehensible not long before and had to settle for watching Chastity eat her loaf, breathing in the sweet and floury aroma from a few feet away. She never did anything wrong.

The thick, creamy gravy slid off the fluffy biscuit in meaty chunks. It all felt so much more real than those nightmarish memories. Credence found himself wondering if he was being too hard on his experiences at Ilvermorny. Whatever bad had happened here, it couldn't be worse than what he had come from.

It was Ravina's idea to, after they were finished, grab her father and go to the Wampus Wing to open the presents. Rocky nearly got his finger bitten off by Wally the Door. _"Wampuses," _he grumbled, and Credence wasn't sure if he was speaking of the cat or people in the House.

When they went in, Abernathy was sitting in the poofy chair, sketching an ideogram of some sort on a piece of parchment. Credence caught sight of what just looked like shapes inside one another - a line inside of a circle inside of a triangle – covering the margins of what looked like had originally been an essay. He scrambled to his feet and hastily turned the paper over when he heard them coming in: "Professor Hodges! Merry Christmas – sir."

"Settle down, Abernathy. I am not here to give you a pop quiz." Rocky turned to Credence, "Which one is your room?"

**A/N: The Barebones probably did celebrate Christmas somehow, as Mary Lou seemed very Puritan. I did a lot of research into 1910s breakfast and biscuits and gravy to make this meal believable to the time period. I find it ironic that I am posting this on Thanksgiving Day. Please review!**


	67. Chapter 67: Gifts

Chapter 67: Gifts

It was a little uncomfortable to have people watching him as he undid the brown paper on the first and smallest of the lumps. It was from Professor Hodges. Credence uncovered an ebony stand for his wand; like a quill holder, but bigger and fancier. The designs going up and down the long end seemed to mimic the curves carved into his own near-black wand. His eyes bulged like he had just been handed a diamond ring with stones the width of fingers. No jewels embroidered this stand, but he had never owned anything so beautiful in his life.

"Well, don't drool on it, you'll mess up the shine," Rocky noted pitilessly; though smile looked like it was threatening to burst forth on his lips as he added, "I'm glad you like it."

Ravina's lump was rectangular and bendy; a book. When Credence took it out, the title read: _Every Night a Beast, the Autobiography of an American Maladictus._

"I thought you might like knowing you weren't alone," Ravina explained, "There are other magical curses, you know. This one runs though the blood, mother to daughter."

The Obscurial really shouldn't have been surprised. People didn't talk much about other magical curses around him, but if he had one, there must be others. "What's a maladictus?"

"Someone who is cursed to turn into some sort of beast," Rocky explained, pointing at the picture on the cover, which showed a painted young woman slowly transforming into a great golden bird, and then back again. "At some point, they are never able to turn back. They are trapped in that body forever."

Sad. Credence imagined being forever trapped in the cloud of the Obscurus, and then wished he hadn't. Maybe that was how the other Obscurials had died.

The last thing was a letter, addressed in a familiar, cramped handwriting. _Percy. _Percy was writing to him! Credence's fingers ached to open it, but a thought made him hesitate to do it in front of the Hodges. His friend had been trying to tell him something before Credence had been escorted out of Ms. Weasley's office. He thought he might have an idea what it was. The notion gave him a chill. It wasn't the sort of thing that he imagined Percy would want everyone to know. For that matter, if it was true, it wasn't something Credence wanted to share either.

"I'm sorry," he told the Hodges, trying to turn their attention away from the unopened letter, "I didn't get you anything."

Ravina smiled sweetly, "That's not the point. The point of giving is to give, not to receive."

"And speaking of gifts, I think Credence would like us to leave him alone now so he can read his letter," Rocky added, and the boy winced at how cold it sounded when put that way. "If you need us, we will be out spreading Christmas cheer."

**A/N: Hello! I'm back…again. As far as this chapter goes, the wand stand was a concept I came up with very, very early in the brainstorming of this story. I was going to have Rocky give it to him directly after he got his wand in the first book, but when it came to the point I thought it felt out of place. So, I waited until here. As far as the book, as you probably know by now I like to give little references to the canon in this AU, and this was my Nagini reference. I was debating how likely it would be that an American maladictus would be able to write a book, but I figured it was a possibility. Please review!**


	68. Chapter 68: His Letter

Chapter 68: His Letter

The minute they left, the boy pounced on the letter. He didn't bother unsticking the seal so that it left no mark on the paper the way Ma had taught him, but pulled it off like a cougar attacking a piece of flesh. The words was a little bit difficult to decipher - Percy's writing was so crowded - but the opening sentences confirmed what Credence had been suspecting ever since his friend's parting words: _I saw everything, Credence. Everything..._

One moment of connection was all it had taken. The Obscurus had gone _through_ Percy. He had touched every part of it in one foul swoop. Credence's hands shook as he read the letter, then read it over and over again. It had done _something_. He'd known that ever since he'd seen Percy's face before he'd fallen to the ground. He'd known it as he'd watched Percy's moaning form on the bed when he'd still been unconscious. The Obscurus, immortalizing everything that it had ever done and every painful memory of his childhood within its depths, latched its memories onto anyone who touched it; like an overly full glass that will spill over at the slightest tap. Something like this had happened one morning in early August, when Ravina had let her fingers enter the blackness of the Obscurus. _"I saw."_ she had said. That was what Percy had said too, only his encounter went much, much deeper.

_I was their with you the whole time. Only it only took a second. Only it was years to. I __really__ hate Finn now for what he did. And I hate you'er Ma to because she was the one who did this to you. I think I understand evrything now. Oh yeah, speaking of Mas, my Ma keeps asking why I'm walking arownd like a tree log. But she doesn't understand. We got to do sumthing to Finn for doing this to us._

_Percy Boyd_

So 'everything' really did mean _everything_. The Obscurus had forced every memory it contained down this innocent boy's gullet.

_P.S. Really, I'm going to be fine. Don't worry about me. I was you're friend before anyone else was_, even before the Hodges._Forget that last bit, I don't know why I wrote that. Anyhoo, if you got on with it, I can to._

The post script did little to quell Credence's guilt. He went up and down the piece of parchment until the sides became crumpled from finger marks and each sentence he could repeat from memory. It was just what he had been afraid of. Percy, that carefree boy who could make a rock want to jump up and down, who could always laugh without anything holding him back, now had to face Credence's pain. _It's Finn's fault. It's Finn's fault, _Credence tried to remind himself. But those last words he'd said before the Obscurus exploded haunted the heart of his mind _"Help me."_

He should have told Percy to run.

The Christmas dinner that afternoon was much less jolly than the morning meal. Roasted chicken Credence would have avoided in any case, but today it especially reminded him of that first conversation he'd had with Percy at the opening feast. Percy had been so appalled that Credence didn't like chicken. What kind of American wizard didn't like chicken? It was scandalous! Nothing like that would ever appall him anymore.

Most of the children who had stayed at the castle went out and had a snowball fight if they were tall enough to not get drowned in the piles of whiteness loaded on the earth. Credence stayed in and listened to faraway suits of armor singing while watching the snowflakes land one by one on player's heads. "_Plan something" ..._ This wasn't just about him anymore. He had to make Finn pay for what he'd done to him _and_ what he'd done to Percy. He could do it. He could make Finn writhe in agony.

What about going to school though? What about the Hodges? They trusted him.

_And what good is a magical weapon if it spends its existence forgotten by the world?_

He wished he could turn off his mind, wished he could actually enjoy watching Pleasant dive headlong into a snow fortress, limbs splayed in a very un-girlish fashion. But it was no use. His cauldron of ideas was already concocting something as those words from Percy's letter played themselves over and over and over again in the back of his mind. Enjoy himself for one day? What a dream. Had it been just this morning?

Abernathy walked past the fireplace on the way back to his prefect room, and noticed the Obscurial sitting behind it, on the window rim, looking outside. His face was still, completely empty. The white shirt that he wore was wrinkled and pressed in odd places. Alton paused to watch the boy move his hands up and down the fabric, squeezing it between his fists until it couldn't be compressed any longer.

Credence left the window and wandered into his dormitory. There lay the empty wand stand on his trunk, gleaming with an elegant beauty. He reached out to pick it up, then stopped. At least one thing of his was still beautiful. He couldn't ruin that too.

**A/N: This chapter has a lot of implications. Some things are foreshadowed here that don't even get further explored into the next book, so if you're curious about something, be prepared for a bit of a wait. Since I didn't come up with the plot line of Percy getting scarred by the Obscurus until later in the process, I actually didn't realize this whole sharing-memories thing would had to happen until later. At first I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but definitely learned to roll with it. Just to make things clear – because it was explained a little better in the first draft, but then I deleted that part – Percy saw all of **_**the Obscurus'**_** memories, not all of **_**Credence's **_**memories. There's definitely a difference. And once again, this was a concept that I made up myself, not anything that the Fantastic Beasts movies has confirmed or implied. In fact, the extended edition of TCOG might have disproved it, as the Obscurus flies straight through Nagini at one point, and she seems fine. But she doesn't say anything afterwards, so I'm not calling it a solid debunk. All of the typos and misspellings in Percy's letter are intentional. Please review!**


	69. Chapter 69: I'm Going to Be Fine

Chapter 69: I'm Going to Be Fine

Danny took another swig from his coffee and tried to focus his mind. After another eight hours of waking up every thirty minutes, that was proving to be the first big challenge of the day. At least work was mostly just standing around. This last bit of December reminded Danny too much of August – not much to do, lots of time to think, the shoved-down things in his mind slowly reemerging like persistent weeds. During the summer, he liked to work outside in the puckwudgie's garden, so at least his hands could be busy. But this time of year he couldn't even do that, not with two feet of snow on the ground. He was forced to think, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

So few students were staying at the castle this holiday that it was easy to forget it wasn't summertime, at least that was what Rafael said. Where were those prank-pulling bimbos when Danny needed them? He was desperate for a distraction; something to keep his mind from jumping to that night in July every time he saw the eleven-year-old Obscurial wafting through the halls like a particularly shadowy ghost. That battle was what kept appearing in his dreams. It was where his mind was wandering on that particular morning as he took large gulps of his coffee. The Obscurus Incursion, that was what the staff whispered when they spoke of it. But they didn't really know the bad part. They hadn't been there for what took place in the hollow under the floor, in the seldom-used dungeon. Only Rafael and Credence could share that memory with him. And only his foreign friend really knew the gravity of the curse Danny had cast to end it. _It was necessary_, he repeated in his mind over and over, like the rhythm of breath. It was either cast the Cruciatus Curse on a panicked child or get blown to smithereens. If only he could get Rafael to see it that way.

"You can't take your mind away because you know it isn't right," was his response after he had pushed Danny into telling him what was on his mind.

"Don't be like that. You were there. I didn't want to be killed, and I didn't want it to get away from us either."

"There's never a time when _Las Maldiciones Imperdonables_ are the only option, _amigo_."

Unwanted, unwelcome, and unaccustomed to being felt, spirals of doubt lingered in Danny's mind. It wasn't the sort of issue he could fix; not with a spell, not with knowledge, not with willpower. He couldn't tell anyone else. Speak the words 'I cast an Unforgivable Curse' and he might as well kiss that dream of becoming an Auror goodbye.He would probably have to have his own trial. No, life was better this way. Ravina was still talking to him. Even Rafael was willing to ignore the matter once he had said his piece. This problem was best left buried in the snow.

Rafael Valadez sometimes wished that his job was a bit more taxing. In Mexico, hard labor was rewarded and respected. Ilvermorny had spoiled him, pandering to his easygoing nature. This winter, he had gotten used to passing his time observing things like a baby owl popple its way from the safety of its home out into the frostbitten and turbulent winds of upper Mt. Greylock. Through his years of being a guard at this school, the biggest challenge that was usually offered was the occasional _alborotador_ causing a fight or sneaking out past curfew. That all changed when Credence had come to live with them. Now there was always tension in the air. Like back home, when wizard families had to live in fear of their _no mágico_ neighbors, keeping their talent undercover lest they be persecuted or exploited. Were there more Obscurials in Mexico? Regardless, _their_ Obscurial at Ilvermorny had certainly changed everything when he had walked through that door. Danny hadn't been the same since that battle in the dungeons. Every little misstep or rebellion from the boy set the faculty's nerves on edge. What if he went a step further? How could they explain putting their faith in an unstable, unpredictable child? Still, Credence really tried. Rafael had watched him since his first step through the high, wooden doors. He knew the boy was trying his best. _Just hold on _niñito. _Things will get easier if you can stay strong just a little while longer. _

Credence watched the baby owl struggle its way out of castle grounds carrying his answer to Percy. An especially snow-heavy gust of wind threatened to overwhelm it, and he pressed his face against the icy window. It couldn't crash. One thing in his life had to be seen to fruition, had to be certain. The noise in his head was growing maddening. The Obscurus pushed against him with a pressure that was slowly but surely driving him insane. But he had told no one about his plan yet. He kept quiet, knowing that if he mentioned it to anyone but Percy they would try to talk him out of what he was intending to do. But Percy would understand. Percy had lived the pain. He had to agree.

Credence's eyes strained as the brown owl got blotted out by the snowy air. If Percy _didn't_ agree, then he and the Obscurus would just have to do things alone. Like old times.

The rest of the holidays Credence spent as a ghost. The world seemed hazy and dim to his eyes, the way it had on his journey to Ilvermorny. But this haze was more like looking at a scene through a misted, glass wall. Everyone could act normal. They could laugh and feast and play in the snow. He was separated from them, lost somewhere dark. The Obscurus, maybe, if it had a fathomable depth. Its consciousness bled into Credence's mind. He hadn't been aware of it like this since before the school year started. Getting stronger again? He realized he didn't really care. It was the Obscurus' destiny to kill him, wasn't it? Well, he just hoped it would not be before he could get some relief.

Just a few days longer, then the pressure could be released. And Credence planned to see that Finnley Finnington came down with it.

**A/N: Danny's back! And I do believe this is my first time going into Rafael's perspective. I had a scene in **_**Summer Trials**_** where he has a conversation with Ravina, and he tells her what the wizard community is like in Mexico (something similar to what is said here). I ended up taking it out of the narrative because it was kind of random and felt awkward. This is my way of bringing it back a little. As for Credence, I was going for trying to paint a picture of obsession and mental instability. Not all choices are logical in a headspace like that. Credence might know somewhere in his mind that he's not doing what's right, but he is just running off of emotion at this point, not really thinking like a normal person. Everything is very internal. Hope that came through in the description. Please review!**


	70. Chapter 70: What I Had in Mind

Chapter 70: What I had in Mind

"Bet you're gonna fail Magical Creatures, ding-bat." Samuel Boyd tried to spin his brother around as they walked into Ilvermorny's halls from the Thestral-drawn carriage that had deposited them at the castle's entrance.

Percy tried to bat Sam's hand away, not very successfully, as the blindfold gave his brother a distinct advantage. "Are they gone already?"

"No. There's a big, black, flesh-eatin' Thestral standin' right in front of yous,"

The eleven-year-old ripped the strip of cloth off his eyes and glanced around, then punched his brother in the shoulder. "There ain't even no windows 'round here!"

"Ok, but you was literally askin' for it," Sam chuckled. "You're such a baby."

"Forget it." Percy grabbed his bag and stomped off to the Sorting Round, where heads of Houses were gathered with the left-behind wands.

"You'd better stay away from that freaky friend of yours," Sam called after him. "He's more likely to eat you than a thestral is!"

The dorm wasn't empty when Percy got in. Credence was there, sitting on the bed. His wand was lying unheeded next to him as he busily rubbed a black wand stand with a handkerchief.

"Hey," Percy said, not sure what else to say.

Credence tensed slightly, "Hey."

The newcomer walked backward, levitating his trunk to the foot of his bed. "Whatcha been doin' all this time - mopin'? Hey, nifty trinket."

Credence took a little too long to answer the question, "Nothing really." Percy felt the Obscurial's on him as he set down his trunk. "Are you ok?" Credence asked.

"Oh, you mean 'cause the last time you saw me I was on a stretcher? Check this out." He unbuttoned his overcoat and gathered up his shirt, showing a residual, gray scar. Credence sucked in a shaky breath. "Ain't it nasty? People will think I was in the war." Percy's grin dropped when he saw Credence's face, "I'm fine. Really."

"Hey, guess who survived." An unfortunately recognizable form stood in the doorway, five boys behind him. "Ooh, everyone watch out, the Obscurus-person's here too."

"You're gonna regret that!" Percy shot back, dropping his shirt.

"Why? Because Credence might give me an ugly scar too? I'm terrified."

Credence fixed Finn with a look so filled with hate that it might just have burned that scar into him if he had held it long enough.

Finn's confidence quavered. "Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's getting kind of crowded in here. We need to move our stuff in."

"It's always too crowded," Loner Joe added, plopping his bag on his bed.

"See? No one's stoppin' you," Percy told Finn.

Credence did the unexpected. He got up from his bed, walked past Burke, Reitherman, and the Karab twins, not avoiding pushing Finn with his shoulder as he brushed past, and was out the door before anyone had a chance to say anything. Percy quickly made to follow suit. "We ain't done with yous!" he shot backward before disappearing into the crowded common room.

Activity made for a good cover; noise qua noise as trunks were moved, wands were tested, and dozens of warriors had to make their voices heard over everyone else's. "I saw you steal my dress robes, you little rug rat!" Pleasant's voice rang out above all the rest.

Percy found the only still object in the whirlwind of confusion. Credence had his back turned to the chaos, shoulders tense. Surprisingly, it was he who spoke up, turning around and for once looking his friend directly in the eyes. "You really saw everything?"

Percy hesitated. Credence's expression seemed barely held together. "Yeah. It was… a lot."

"Then you understand." The Obscurial's face contorted, though with what emotion it was hard to tell. "No one else really understands."

"I _know,"_ Percy said.

The voices all around blotted out the silence. Percy opened his mouth a couple of times, then closed it again. His vision had been so real. That deep, gnawing, gaping hole… how could words ever describe that?

"You still thinkin' 'bout goin' through with it?" he finally said, "With Finn, I mean?"

Credence nodded.

Percy blew some air through his lips, "Yeah, I mean, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind –"

"I have to," Credence cut him off. "You should know why. I have to or I'm going to go insane."

Finn heard a crinkle under his pillow when he lay down that night. A note, just two sentences: _Tomorrow, 6:30pm, the classroom next to History. Come alone if you really want to see what I can do. _No name was signed, but it didn't take a wizard to figure it out. Maybe there were some guts inside Credence Barebone after all.

**A/N: Some of you may be wondering why Sam isn't afraid of thestrals/magical creatures in general the way Percy is. Well, he actually was at first, but not to the same degree. You'll recall Professor Tsalagi saying as much way back in his first Magical Creatures of the USA class. But Sam got over his inhibitions very easily and quickly. This is just due to how the two brothers dealt with the grief of their father's death. They both experienced the same thing, but it manifested in different ways, Percy's being a phobia of magical creatures. At first glance, it might seem as if Finn is unaffected by the party or Credence being an Obscurial (the way Credence realized he was at the end of Part 2). But you have to remember that most of what we see Finn do and say is not what he is actually thinking or feeling, but a cool and tough façade. Most boys have this. It would also be good to remember for the next chapter. Please review!**


	71. Chapter 71: He Gets it Now

Chapter 71: He Gets It Now

Percy hadn't experienced the Obscurus' swimming in Credence's mind for nearly a month. He could guess what it had been like though. As a being – an animal, a vacuum, a shadow – he remembered devouring any shred of provocation that was thrown his way. Oh, the Christmas break hadn't been easy for him either; lying in bed, unable to forget, but unable to vent on anyone either. Why bother? No one would understand. He remembered a loneliness so consuming, it was deeper than anything he could have felt on his own, even from the time after his father had died. What had he done to deserve this? That would be about when his thoughts would turn back to Credence. He hadn't done anything to deserve this either. It was time to make someone pay.

They had chosen the room next to History of Magic because it was empty. Finn had gotten locked in there one night for two hours near the beginning of the prank war. That phase seemed so long ago, but it had only been a couple of months. The room had been unoccupied for so long that even the desks and chairs had been removed, leaving wide open space. Just the thing; no evidence to throw around.

Credence had worried after reading Percy's letter that his friend would go back to being scared of him, now that he knew what the Obscurus was _really_ like. But once Percy understood what needed to be done, he didn't speak up against it.

"'Course I'm gonna help yous," he responded. "Finn did stuff to both of us. I was just sayin' that… you _sure_ you can keep everything from goin' _kerblewy?"_

"I think so," Credence said after a long pause. His thoughts weren't usually focused on the 'control' part of the plan. Just give in to the Obscurus. Wasn't that the sort of thing the Hodges always warned against? But they hadn't experienced what he had – or what Percy had for that matter. The stage was already set. It was too late to back out now even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to.

The monster beat and pulsed against its bars. He just had to wait a little while longer. Ten minutes. Five minutes. The two boys looked around to make sure nobody was watching – like anyone ever watched them anyways – and scurried out of the dining hall to the room where they would meet up.

Finn was right on schedule. He came alone, as promised, bringing only the same cocky expression that he always wore around them. "So what's the plan? Are you going to give me a scar too?" He looked at Percy: "Watch out, Boyd, or Credence might go all Obscurial on us."

"I wouldn't joke about that if I was you," Percy answered. _"Callopentus." _The door shuddered a little, but didn't lock.

"_Colloportus," _Credence cast correctly. A metallic slab thumped into place inside the wooden doorframe. Percy went to the window to make sure no one was watching from the outside.

Finn expression had turned a little uneasy, but he quickly masked it, "You know _Alohomora_ exists, right? And I'm serious, if you did anything really to me, you'd be expelled to Antarctica."

Percy stood in front of the door. His arms were braced at his sides, wand in hand, "You weren't."

Finn's eyes swiveled around as the stones beneath their feet began to tremble. He looked up to see the boy in front of him shaking like the rocks, an intense and bone-chilling expression on his face. The candles attached to sconces on the walls went out; one, two, three, four. Finn stepped back from the smoking outline of Credence Barebone. The Obscurial held his arms out as they evaporated into black matter.

Finn drew his wand, pushing boldness into his face and grip, "I'm not afraid of you."

Credence's eyes had gone white. The transformation was creeping in on his body. "You should be."

Bones crumbled. All of a sudden, there was nothing but a giant-sized mass with red glowing from its core. _"Woah!"_ Percy and Finn both cried, then Finn was forced to dive out of the way as the Obscurus flew at him.

"_Flipendo!" _the boy shouted, but he might as well have tossed a penny at an angry bulldog. The Obscurus didn't even flinch. It made another pass at him, a roar coming from deep within it. Percy almost supposed he could hear Credence's voice screaming along with it. He shuddered. A piece of wall crumbled as Finn dodged just in time. "I think I get it!" he called to the beast, then ducked as it careened above his head. "You're dangerous. I understand!"

But Finn might as well have been talking to an animal, something that acted on instinct and emotion. This thing might be smarter and stronger, but for all the notice it took of Finn's words it could have been just a howling wind; the perfect destructive force. Finn's face was red with exertion and his brown hair was stuck to his head with sweat. Even Percy was panting with a wild look in his eye from the couple of times he'd had to dodge the oncoming cyclone, "Credence, I think he gets it now! Watch out or the whole castle will come down on us!"

"Ok, I admit it!" the tiny-looking opponent stared out at the Obscurus, which was revving up once again. "You are a great warrior. I take back what I said!"

The Obscurus charged, straight as an arrow, from the opposite side of the room. It spun forward, larger and larger.

"I didn't cast the Revelio Charm on you!" Finn shouted.

The breaks squealed. Anticipation tumbled into sudden silence.

Finn opened his eyes to see blackness receding not a foot from his forehead. Percy stood stalk still. For once, he was speechless. The fabric folded into its original shape of a human boy. Credence was staring, thunderstruck, at the glistening, panting, terrified form of Finnley Finnington. "You didn't?"

"No," the Wampus tried to regain some control of himself. "It was Kir Karab."

**A/N: It's the Obscurus battle we've all been waiting for! I want to talk for a minute about this plot twist at the end here because there's kind of a cool story behind it. In my outlining and in my drafting of this book, I always planned on it being Finn who cast the Revelio Charm. It was that way right up to the sentences before the Obscurus exploded out at the party. In fact, in the original draft, there was foreshadowing to it as I had Credence notice Finn standing separated from everyone else and holding his wand. Some of those elements even made it into this version. Then, right there at the last second, I thought, **_**what if it wasn't Finn?**_** And things just fell into place from there. The argument with Dibon and Kir, the meeting scene (chapter titled 'This is War'), it all just worked out so perfectly for it to have been Kir and I wasn't even aware of it! Let's just say it was one of those magical writer moments. What do you think? Please review!**


	72. Chapter 72: Consider Yourself Lucky

Chapter 72: Consider Yourself Lucky

Kir Karab. The name didn't even ring properly, like it had gotten distorted somewhere between Credence's ears and his brain. How could it not have been Finn? It had to have been Finn.

"You told Mr. Hodges it was you," he whispered.

"Of course I did." Finn had straightened himself up and wiped the sweat from his brow, the look of fright on his face quickly burying itself, "It's what friends do. If you had more than one friend maybe you'd understand that."

"You weren't trying to get back at me and Percy?" Credence asked.

"No, nothing like that, stupid. It was an initiation. It was supposed to be Kir's way of getting into the gang. You think I would have botched it as badly as he did if I had been the one doing it? I am almost as good at magic as you."

Percy and Credence shared a look. Both had heard the 'almost'.

"You two were messing with us," Finn continued. "How was I supposed to know the Obscurus was even anything more than some prank you were just using to scare us? You were trying to make an idiot of me. What was I supposed to do?"

"Somethin'. Else." Percy growled. But Credence didn't join in. It really hadn't been Finn. Or… or had it? Finn had had the idea. But he had protected his friend, what was the Obscurial supposed to make of that?

There was a soft _shoomp. _All three of the boys whirled around guiltily. Standing in the doorway was the tall, disappointed form of Professor Tsalagi. "Well, I guess it would be mistakes all around then," he said.

"Wha - How'd you get in?" Percy spluttered.

"_Alohomora_ exists, Mr. Boyd." Rocky Hodges' voice sounded from the other end of the torn-up room, "And so does apparition."

Despite everything, the three boys shrank together as the two professors closed in on them. Credence's eyes suddenly became aware of just how much damage the Obscurus had done to the room.

"Any chance this could all just be a simple misunderstandin'?" Percy tried.

Rocky folded his arms, "Not one."

Three pathetic-looking Wampuses trudged back through the Sorting Round, down winding halls, and into the Wampus Wing. Rocky led the way, not looking back and maintaining a silence that was unlike him enough to be scary. Professor Tsalagi hobbled with his cane at the end of the procession. When Credence dared to glance back at him once, he saw that the eyes, usually so sunny, look like clouds had passed over them.

Whispers and stares followed them as they trudged. No one really knew what had happened, but three defeated First Years being escorted by two professors was never a good sign. Professor Ro's eyes flashed as they passed her in the halls. She spoke something so low that only Professor Hodges could hear: "I told you."

Most students had left the dining hall by this time and some Wampuses were already milling about in the common room. Kir Karab was near the door, showing Boris and Royal his very first chocolate frog card. Percy broke out of line when he saw him; "I hope you know what you missed. Finn just took a beating for yous."

The No-Maj-born agitatedly glanced between him and the out-of-House teachers who had just entered the room.

"And just to make yous aware," Percy continued, in an even lower voice, "We all know it was you who did the whole Revelio hocus-pocus the night of the party. You should consider yourself lucky. I think Mr. O's got most of his nerves out now." He jerked his head at Credence.

"_Boyd!" _Professor Hodges summoned. Percy retreated back into line, not waiting for a response from Kir. That was good, because Kir's mouth was hanging open like a broken hinge.

"I thought we had this covered, boys, but let us go over it one more time, shall we? I especially want to talk to you." Professor Hodges turned his eyes on Percy.

Credence was startled into speech: "Not me?"

"No. I am going to save that for Professor Blygull. She has a few things she wants to say to you."

"Professor Blygull?" Credence was getting really terrified now.

"Yes, Professor Blygull. Maybe now you will understand the gravity of what you have done. I am not going to lecture you too hard, Finn, because I think you already got that last year, but everyone listen up. Do not think for a moment that we do not know what happened out there. There are not very many things that can smash up walls like that. Trust me, I have seen it before."

Credence cringed.

"So I would start thinking of some decent and pretty explanations. You are going to need them. Boyd, follow me." The professor turned and made to leave, pausing only until he heard Percy get up. The boy shared a trepedatious look with Credence as he walked backward to the door with Professor Hodges. "It was nice knowin' yous."

"You don't." Finn growled sorely.

"Not you!" the other barely managed to call before he was led around the corner and out of sight.

"You can come with me, Finn. Professor Blygull will be in here soon," Tsalagi said quietly. The eleven-year-old made his way out in front of him, casting one last look into the dorm. The professor too stopped and looked back at the last boy sitting on his bed, "If I had known you would do something like this six months ago, Credence, I might have made a different decision at the trial." He turned sadly and limped out. Credence wished he could say something, wished he wouldn't go. But he couldn't think of anything. Somehow, that last comment stung more than any of Professor Hodges' hard words.

**A/N: You might think it is a little random that Professor Tsalagi was right around where the boys were at that time. But remember, he lives in the castle now. What else is he supposed to do in the evenings? When he saw what was going on, he probably apparated to get Rocky, and they both came back to the spot just as things were winding down. That's about it for this chapter. We are almost at the end so seriously, please review!**


	73. Chapter 73: Professor Blygull

Chapter 73: Professor Blygull

Whatever the shock of hearing Professor Blygull's name was, it was another thing to see her - that calculated, put-together sheen of marble, like the stones beneath her feet - actually standing in front of him. Her short, white hair was curled neatly underneath a witch's hat, and her folded hands were concealed within the cranberry robes. Her lips were a thin line, like her wrinkled and narrowed eyes. "I trusted you," she said, not sounding betrayed or grief-stricken; simply saying it. "I trusted you after the trial, at the start of the semester, and after the incident with Percival Boyd. The very idea of your living here depends on trust." She paused, letting him guess what was coming, "And yet you plan and execute something like this."

Credence couldn't look at those eyes. Her words, her voice, her expression, it was all too calm, too calculated. And the worst part was that everything she was saying was true. He couldn't defend himself. That sick, boiling hatred of December had been doused like a flame. It wasn't that he wasn't angry anymore. But that guiding light had been put out, and now he was lost, and exhausted. Controlling the Obscurus on a rampage like that and then ending up so stymied had left him completely empty.

Professor Blygull had noticed the wand-stand that Mr. Hodges had given him, which was sitting on the center on his trunk. She touched the tip with a long-nailed finger, pulling it away to check for dust. "Let me tell you something, Credence. Several years ago, I was asked to undertake the role of headmistress of the biggest, most well-respected school in America. It was a promotion that I had been long expecting, and had been working towards my entire life. A great honor. But a responsibility. That was something that the freedom and authority, which was so overwhelmingly publicized, had somewhat blinded me to. In the end, everything that happens in this school falls on my shoulders; every child, every judgment, every expulsion."

"You're going to expel me?" Credence couldn't help but ask.

"I am not finished yet."

As she continued her tripping cadence, the old woman moved to the other side of the room, smoothing the sheets on Loner Joe's bed. "After that initial shock, I decided that the responsibilities of Ilvermorny were enough for to satisfy my appetite. I was not about to run for President of MACUSA or some such nonsense." She stood straight back up and looked back at the Obscurial, the slightest crease of her eyes making him shrink even further into his shoulders. "But then you showed up one night, and my syrup of power became sickening."

Credence didn't look up again. He knew where this was going. Professor Blygull came back over to stand in front of his bed. "I never asked to judge the life and future of a human-parasite fusion. You never asked to become one. Yet both of us were handed these curses. Every responsibility comes with a power, and every power comes with a responsibility. If we forget the other half, we live to do wrong by it.

"You think of your burden as a curse, and so you almost hurt someone with it. Remember, it is a great gift; a great power. To be a member of society, you must learn how to respect that." She picked the wand stand up off of his box and gently handed it to him. "This is well taken care of. I do not even see any finger prints on it. I know you are capable of respecting the things you care about. When Percival Boyd was injured, it hurt you as well. And you have demonstrated that you have gained control over the Obscurus. My occupation is rooted in noticing the students with potential. You simply must learn to respect yourself a little more, your whole self. That is why I am not going to expel you, this time."

She began walking out of the room almost before she could see the expression of stunned relief on the Obscurial's face. "Please do not assume that this means you do not have detention for the rest of the year though," she added when she got to the door. "Perhaps it will give you and Finnley a chance to sort out your differences. You have become a better wizard than I gave you credit for this summer, Credence. I hope your choices lead you to become a better man as well."

**A/N: THE END! This is my longest project ever and certainly my longest fan fiction piece. Each chapter was named after something spoken by either Rocky or Percy. This book started as 66 chapters and ended at 73, so I was forced to redo a lot of the titles. Fall from Winter was always the soul of the trilogy (yes, another book is coming soon), and it just came together beautifully. Maybe it helped that I actually outlined this one. It was also my first experience with a beta reader, so it's definitely more polished than Summer Trials. I recognize that not as many people read this book because it requires a bit more of a time commitment in general as well as having to go back and read Summer Trials. It is also very separated from Fantastic Beasts. The next book (it will have the same cover as the previous two) will probably be coming out towards the beginning of next summer at the latest. I have started writing it so hopefully I can begin posting earlier than I expect. I have yet to get any reviews on this story and I know that that was one of my favorite parts of posting Summer Trials. So, if you would like to review, now's the time to do it! See you later!**


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